


A Stranger

by Loeka



Series: Life (Has A Bitter Taste) (Of The Sweetest Kind) [1]
Category: Naruto
Genre: F/M, Family, Fluff, Friendship, Gen, Romance, Self-Insert, Smut, Tiny Team 7, adopts a tiny naruto, in which a self-insert civilian with no knowledge of the plot, things snowball from there
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-23
Updated: 2017-12-28
Packaged: 2018-04-27 18:49:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 58,556
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5059978
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Loeka/pseuds/Loeka
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>How did it come to this? Oh wait, I remember now. My weakness for all things cute.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Lust

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING; this story contains explicit sex. If that isn't your thing, avoid chapters 1, 3 and 5. The story can be read without them.

"Take off your clothes."

The softly spoken words make me freeze.

Am I dreaming again?

He's still standing there. Watching. Waiting.

Slowly, I bring up my arms and pull off my top. The sound of it hitting the floor is almost too loud in the now heavy silence. Goosebumps erupt all over. It isn't from the chill. I can feel his eyes trace my body, even as he stays hidden in the shadows.

This is really happening.

The thought strikes like lightning, making a giddy smile rise. I straighten my shoulders, every uncertainty falling away. My thumbs come up to play with the waist of my shorts, before I slip my thumbs beneath the hem and pull it down, just a little.

He shifts without a sound, the movement more felt than seen. My smile grows sultry.

Slowly, oh so slowly, I push down the fabric, shimmying my hips. I turn around as they fall down the floor, step out of them, and throw a heady look over my shoulder as I stand there clad in nothing but my panties.

Is that a sigh I hear?

I close my eyes, tilting back my head. If this is happening, I'm going to make it _good_.

My hands caress my neck, sliding down, feather light touches. My breath hitches as I add a hint of nails, the barest of bites.

That is most definitely a sigh. My smile grows.

I glide down my hands until they're resting just above my panties. My fingers slip underneath the fabric, stroking, caressing, dipping inside. I moan. It would almost be embarrassing how wet I am if it wasn't so hot.

"Take it off." His voice is lower now, more rough. I toy with the edges of the fabric, drawing it out. The tension rises even higher.

Finally, I push them down and step out of them. I don't look back. I don't need to.

His gaze is so intense that it warms my body in the most delicious of ways.

"Turn around."

Mischievousness rises at his command. I look back over my shoulder, bring up a finger still moist with my own desire, and suck it clean.

"Make me," I challenge.

A blur, too fast to track. Hard armor is pressed against my back while a gloved hand holds both my wrists captive. His other covers my throat, the cool leather a sensual contrast against my heated skin. He could snap my neck so easily. The hint of danger only adds to the excitement. I shiver.

A push, his arms turning me around, my back against the wall as he forces my hands up high. Moonlight illuminates the harsh lines of his bleached mask. He doesn't make another move.

My eyes close as I feel him look over every inch of me. It makes me feel exposed.

It turns me on. Almost ridiculously so.

Then he's _touching_ me, gloved fingers caressing my throat. I can't help but gasp and another shiver runs through me.

His hand moves lower, gliding over my breasts. My breathing deepens further.

His touch goes lower, _lower_.

He stops, right where I want him to. And he _doesn't move_. My eyes snap open. There are only shadows where his own should be. Somehow, the sight is more intense than anything I've ever experienced before.

I _want_.

Moaning, I shift my hips, needing him to just touch me.

He pulls back.

A strangled sound escapes me, frustration spiking. That bastard.

"Touch me, damn you," I order.

The low laugh he lets out is almost as good as a caress. Almost.

"Make me," he taunts.

I narrow my eyes as I take a moment to gather my scattered thoughts and decide on what to do. Then I lift my leg, hook it around his waist and _pull_.

Sweet pressure, pure bliss. I shift my hips, needing to be closer, so much closer.

A shudder passes through him, before my wrists are released and his hands tangles through my hair, tilting back my head. His other pulls me even closer, increasing that sweet, sweet pressure.

 _Yes_.

I reach for him, grab his own hair and clutch at his shoulder. The proof of his desire pushes against me, exquisite heat even through fabric, fitting so perfectly.

He _rolls his hips._

A broken sound escapes my throat, my nails biting into unyielding armor and pulling at soft hair. More, I need _more_.

A too fast movement, my surroundings blurring, before I'm pushed down the bed with my wrists held captive once more.

I whine.

Then smooth leather _finally_ touches me. I let my legs fall open, arch my back as those nimble fingers speed up. Stroking, petting, flicking, slipping inside, a harsh twist, straddling the line between pleasure and pain so perfectly and everything is tensing, tightening, _so close._

He stops. _No!_

Letting out a strangled sound, my eyes snap open so I can glare at that absolute _bastard_.

"I will hurt you so much," I swear, meaning every word.

He lets out another low laugh.

"I'd like to see you try."

I struggle to get free, but I'm held down effortlessly. It increases both my anger and lust, the line between rage and passion blurred. I feel him shift and hear the sounds of moving cloth. My mind is too muddled to understand what it means, all my focus still on trying to get free. I need him to just touch me!

His hips snap forward without warning, filling me completely.

Yes, yes, _yes!_

Broken sobs, so full, so hot, harder, _yes_ , more, _don't stop!_

He stops.

My shriek is captured by his hand, and I glare at the shadows of his eyes. The blankness of his mask is mocking me.

Move. Move!

He moves.

Eyes closing, shivering, tensing, _tightening_ , more, I need more!

Wrists suddenly free, voice released, desperately gasping for breath, moaning, screaming, blindly clutching at something, _anything_ , because his fingers are _right there_ , stroking and caressing, _yes_ , don't stop!

Back arching, stars exploding, oh God, _God!_

Silence.

Breathing heavily, sated and spent. Shivering as he pulls out. Lazily watching his movements as he gets off the bed, no energy left.

Wow.

I blink and he's gone.

_Wow._

We have got to do that again.


	2. Random Happenings (Create Ripples)

Pain _._

It hurts, it hurts so much and I can't breathe, I can't breathe!

No air, no light, so much pain, why can't I breathe?

What's happening to me?

* * *

 

* * *

"Mari, you have got to publish this. It's amazing!"

I feel myself blush as Tori continues to gush about my work. I didn't expect a reaction like this, writing is just something I do in my spare time. I don't usually share it either, but I made an exception for my last story. Mostly because it's the only one I've ever finished.

According to Tori, it's also _one of the greatest literary works of our age!_ Of course, Tori has a habit of exaggerating. Still, everyone else also think it's good. Maybe even good enough to publish.

Wouldn't that be something?

Even so, I feel uncharacteristically shy. The idea of strangers reading my work makes me uncomfortable. Not to mention that most of it is blatantly copied, even if no one here knows the original. The idea of publishing makes me feel like a fraud.

So I shrug in response.

"You're being too modest," Shiro informs me, stoic as ever.

"It's not that special," I protest, because it really isn't.

Tori scoffs, letting me know exactly how much she disagrees with that.

"Not that special, she says. It's a brilliant! A work of art!"

My cheeks burn. She's being ridiculous.

"It's just a story," I say.

"Yes, and Hokage-sama is just a man." This time it's Renji who refutes my protest, rolling his eyes so forcefully that I'm surprised they don't fall straight out of their sockets.

"But–"

"No buts," Tori interrupts me. "You're going to find an editor, you're going to publish, and you're going to become famous across Konoha as the most amazing author ever!"

The others all nod in agreement. Maybe I shouldn't have given in and let them read it. I just didn't expect any of them to be so enthusiastic. Or forceful.

In hindsight, I really should have.

"Just don't forget about us little people when you become famous," Rukia teases with a smile.

"Like I'd let her. I'm going to milk your fame for all it's worth, living on your coattails while you haul in the cash," Renji proclaims with an insufferable smirk.

"A plaque stating that the famous Mari buys her clothes from me would do wonders for my business," Shiro delivers deadpan, looking at me with much too amused eyes.

"Ooh, we could start a new line. Fantastic Fabrics, inspired and endorsed by Takahashi Mariko herself," Rukia plays along without missing a beat. I have to grin at their ridiculousness.

Tori's hand smacking down the table draws all our attention back to her and the satisfied expression she's wearing.

"It's settled. You're going to take this to a publisher, even if we have to drag you there by the hair," she declares, because why should my own opinion about this matter in any way?

"Guys, really–" I try one last time, but of course they don't let me finish.

"It would be better to tie her up. We have a cousin who's a ninja, he can make sure she won't be able to wriggle free." Because naturally Renji would say that. And naturally Rukia nods cheerfully in agreement.

"Excellent, that makes everything easier," Tori proclaims, bright, enthusiastic, and utterly determined. This is going to happen no matter what.

Seriously, why do I even try?

I let out a defeated sigh and throw up my hands in surrender.

"Fine, I'll do it."

Rukia pats me on the head as if I'm an obedient pet.

"Good girl."

I laugh and push her hand away.

"You guys are such assholes," I tell them all with a grin.

"You love us anyway," Shiro quips with a twitch of his lips, his version of a bemused smile. I have to smile back. It's true, I do love them.

A loud squeal interrupts anything else that could've been said, and I'm suddenly being embraced by an excited redhead.

"You won't regret this, you'll see!" Tori's loud voice so near my ears makes me wince, even as I continued smiling.

"I already do." My dry retort makes Renji and Rukia chuckle, while Tori pulls back just enough to aim a pout my way.

Honestly, all this for a modified version of The Lion King.

* * *

"I changed my mind," I blurt out, nervousness at an all time high. I'm going to be sick.

"Too late." Rukia is much too cheerful. Why on earth has Shiro given her the day off? I could've escaped Renji, but his sister is another matter entirely. Vows of future revenge don't work on her.

"No, seriously, I don't want to do this! I like writing, I _don't_ like the idea of random strangers judging it." My protests are completely ignored, the two siblings keeping a firm hold on both my arms as they continue dragging me forward.

"Too bad, you don't get a choice," Renji informs me with a stupid smirk that makes my hand itch with the desire to smack it right off his face. Unfortunately, I can't. Their grip is iron clad.

Despite my protests and struggles, I'm dragged inside the building. I curse my lack of muscles with all my heart.

The man behind the desk stares at us like the bizarre sight we are.

"Hello, sir. We have an appointment to the name of Takahashi Mariko," Rukia says with a cheerful smile as she ignores my continuing struggles to escape.

The man gives us another long look, before he lowers his gaze and opens a planner.

"Indeed you do. Sato-san is expecting you. He's down the hallway, second door on your right."

Because of course in Konoha people don't ask questions when confronted with something like this. They just gossip about it later.

"Thank you for your help," Rukia says as she and Renji bow, forcing me down with them.

"I'm going to dye your hair a neon green," I hiss at her, already planning on how to do it. My best bet is to steal Renji's spare key to her place without him noticing and switch her brand of shampoo with a bottle filled with dye while she's at work. Then I just need to unobtrusively return Renji's key.

As for Renji, I'll think of a suitable revenge for him later.

"I'm fabulous enough to make that work," Rukia replies as though wearing any form of neon isn't one of her worst nightmares. Renji chuckles like the asshole he is. They resume forcefully marching me along.

As we stop in front of our destination, I give in to the inevitable. Naturally, both of them notice and share a much too smug look.

Renji knocks, waits for permission to enter, opens the door, and pushes me inside. With enough force that I almost fall over, but I manage to spin around just in time instead. The last I see of my oh so supportive friends is them cheerfully waving me on, before they shut the door in my face.

Taking a fortifying breath, I turn around and meet the gaze of an older man. He looks deeply unimpressed. Understandable, given at my unconventional entrance. Or maybe it's my lack of manners.

"Takahashi Mariko, I presume?" He sounds only a little disapproving. Too bad.

Swallowing my groan, I bow. I'm here now, might as well see it through. I'll never hear the end of it if I don't.

Seriously though, I send out _one_ query letter.

I didn't actually expect it to inspire an interest like this.

* * *

My very own book is displayed behind the window. I'm so choked up I almost cry.

"I love you guys, you're the best," I manage to get out, overwhelmed in the best of ways.

Renji bumps my shoulder.

"We know," he says with a soft grin.

"What would you do without us?" Rukia winks. She makes her green hair look fabulous, she really does. I'm so glad that I decided to go with a darker shade than neon. Her meddling is part of what led to this wonderful moment in time, punishing her for it with neon would've been the height of injustice.

"Live a sad and dull life," Shiro answers the rhetorical question like it's the most obvious thing in the world. I chuckle.

"Enough chitchat, we have a book to buy!" Tori exclaims, bright and bubbly.

"Why do we have to buy it? You should give us a copy, we've worked hard enough for it," Renji complains. While it's in jest, there's a touch of sincerity as well. It's nothing personal, Renji tries to save money on everything. He's the most frugal person I know.

His words make Rukia roll her eyes in the way only her brother can inspire.

"We're being supportive. Besides, with Mari signing it, it'll be worth a fortune in the future. You can always sell it later and make back your money. Cheapskate."

"I'm not a cheapskate." Renji's denial is both expected and ignored.

"I'm going to display it above the counter and make everyone who enters bask in the brilliance that is The Lion Lord," Tori announces, making me feel even more mushy and warm.

"Less talking, more buying," Shiro orders, getting things back on track. Rukia nods in agreement.

"He's right, we're blocking the entrance."

"Then let's go!" With that, Tori hooks an arm through Renji's and drags him into the store. Rukia follows along at a more sedate pace.

I look through the window a moment longer. Look at the cover of my book. My book that's being sold in a real bookstore. Because people think it's good enough for that.

I feel overwhelmed in the best of ways all over again.

Shiro's hand comes to rest on my shoulder, making me turn my gaze towards him. He's giving me as soft a look as he is capable of.

"Daisuke would be proud," he says. The sentiment warms me further, even as it also causes a stab of grief. I still miss Daisuke. Miss his kindness and endless patience. But it's no longer as painful as it used to be. After two years, his loss has become a scar instead of an open wound. Still, hearing Shiro say this makes me feel bittersweet.

It's the good kind of bittersweet. 

I raise my own hand and give his a gentle squeeze.

"Thanks, Shiro," I say softly.

"You're welcome," he returns, voice just as soft and one corner of his lips a fraction higher than the other. His version of a warm smile.

I have the best friends ever.

* * *

"I can't believe you quit." Tori is actually hurt. Which is ridiculous, I haven't done anything to deserve that kind of response.

"I didn't quit, I'm just working part-time now," I deny. She's overreacting.

"You quit!" she accuses again.

"I did not," I deny again, starting to get annoyed by her reaction.

"Yes, you did."

"Did not."

"Did too."

"Did– you know what, I'm not doing this," I decide, because if I don't, this will drag on forever.

Tori pouts, crosses her arms, and continues looking at me like I've just murdered a puppy. I'm not liking the guilt this inspires, not one bit. There's nothing for me to be guilty about!

"You're overreacting, Tori. She'll still be here every day. She just won't stay as long as before," Renji supports me as he continues setting the tables.

"Thank you!" I exclaim, happy for his back up. Tori's pout becomes even more pronounced. Honestly, someone her age shouldn't be able to look that childish. She's older than me, for God's sake.

"You abandoned me. How could you?" she demands like I literally stabbed her in the back.

"Then why the hell did you agree? You're the owner, you could've said no," I point out more sharply than intended, but seriously, this is ridiculous.

"I didn't think you were being serious!" Tori retorts like it's supposed to be a valid argument.

"I brought over a new contract for you to approve! How did that not seem serious?" I counter incredulously. Did she actually think I waded through the battlefield that is Konoha's administration laws just for fun?

"I thought it was a joke!"

Apparently she did. I open my mouth to point out the absurdity of that statement, but Renji starts talking before I can.

"Ladies, you do realize we almost have to open, right? Now is not the best time to argue about this."

I sigh and bring up a hand to rub my eyes. He's right, of course. I just hadn't expected Tori to react like this.

"I thought you wanted me to write more stories," I say as I lower my hand.

"Not if it means abandoning the Dancing Dragon!" Tori shoots back with a glare. As always, it's surprisingly intimidating. Tori isn't the type to glare, but when she does, she does it with as much conviction as she does everything else.

"I'm not abandoning anything or anyone!" I exclaim, fed up with this entire situation. "I just need more time to write! I've told you how hard my editor is pushing me! And may I point out that I wouldn't even be in this situation if it wasn't for _you_ pressuring me to publish in the first place!"

Tori wilts, all her anger gone and her eyes becoming glassy. Oh shit.

"Stop, don't be like that," I plead. If there's one thing I can't handle, it's tears.

Tori sniffles.

"Look, I don't want to quit, but I don't have the time to both work here the entire day and still write enough to satisfy the demon from hell," I try, starting to feel a little frantic.

Her lips tremble.

"I'd have to stop meeting the others, no more free time, nothing but writing. I enjoy writing, it shouldn't be a chore."

A sob breaks through.

"Not that I don't enjoy working here, I do!" I blabber, officially in panic mode. "It's why I don't want to quit! Just, work a little less?"

Oh shit, oh shit, there's actual tears now.

Renji lets out a deep sigh before I can continue my blabbering. He marches over with a determined expression, and stops next to a sniffling Tori.

He firmly smacks the back of her head.

"You're not only being selfish, you're being childish. Now get up and put on the water. We've got customers waiting," he orders without a shred of compassion. Tori turns an utterly betrayed look his way, eyes still glassy with tears. I'm so jealous of the way Renji ignores it with ease, going back to work instead.

His reaction makes Tori sigh. The sound is long, loud, and so mournful that it seems like she's just been told her best friend has died.

"Fine. Fine! But you better be the best part-time waitress to ever exist," she warns with a fierce glare and a pointed finger aimed my way. As always, Renji's peculiar brand of affection works wonders.

I smile, relieved that we've managed to sort this out.

"That I can do."

* * *

"I have to admit, I would've guessed you'd enjoy The Lion Lord more. It's more popular with boys than The Little Mermaid," I say as I lean on the counter. Coal black eyes look back at me from a placid expression.

"I found the tale of a girl determined to see her dreams come true, no matter the personal sacrifice, no matter that she would be alone in a strange and unknown land, both touching and inspiring."

"And it has nothing to do with the cute and fluffy romance between her and the prince I somehow managed to write," I retort in a dry voice to the hidden romantic in front of me.

"Of course not," he denies as calmly as he does everything else.

Shisui laughs and gracefully bumps the shoulder of the boy sitting next to him, before he gives me a mischievous look.

"Don't believe him, Mari-chan. I caught him crying his eyes out after he got to the wedding scene."

Everyone who knows Itachi even a little would know that Shisui is lying through his teeth. Doesn't make it any less amusing.

"I did not cry."

I never would've been able to detect the hint of indignity hidden beneath Itachi's placid reply without Shiro's long friendship. It makes me grin.

"Of course not," I say patronizingly and resist the urge to mess up his hair. Itachi is ridiculously cute. After he gets through puberty, he's going to be one hell of a heart breaker. 

It is truly horrifying that he's already a ninja, but I've learned to live with this awful reality by now. Not like I can do anything about it.

"More tea?" I offer innocently. Shisui chuckles, while Itachi's expression remains just as placid as before. He's definitely not pouting, nope, not at all.

These two are my favorite customers.

* * *

I've published four stories. I still can't believe it. Four. Stories. And they're popular! So popular I'd be able to quit working at the Dancing Dragon and still earn enough to make a living! Though it would be a poor one. But who cares! I could do it if I want to!

There's a reason Disney is such a cash cow. Or maybe was? Whatever, not important. What's important is that I've published four stories!

"To four stories!" I exclaim. We all clink our cups together and throw them back once more.

"See, I told you. I knew you'd be amazing," Tori giggles, well over tipsy. I laugh loudly, the sake already having effect on me as well. I feel so very bubbly. Because I have four stories!

"I am awesome!" I cheer, and get agreements from the entire table. I love these guys so much.

"Just think, five years ago you couldn't even write your own name," Shiro teases. His flushed cheeks are the only indication of how drunk he already is.

His remark makes Rukia cackle loudly, while Renji lets out a hilarious little giggle.

"And now I'm a famous author! Suck on that you stupid kanji!" Victory is sweet.

I refill our cups and lift mine in another toast.

"To victory!" I crow. The others all lift their cups as well, before we empty them yet again.

This evening is worth the upcoming hangover. I feel at home in a way I hadn't thought would be possible again. Except it is possible! I'm here with my friends, and we're having fun, and we're celebrating, and I love these guys _so much_. And I've published four stories!

Life is wonderful.

* * *

I stare down the alley. Blink a few times. Rub my eyes to make sure I'm not seeing things. But no, the kid is still slumped next to the dumpster. He's either trying to hide ineffectively, or he just doesn't care about being seen.

I try to convince myself that he's simply out too late, that he lost track of time while playing. Seeing as the kid looks like he's planning to stay here for the foreseeable future, it doesn't work. I have a very uncomfortable feeling about this.

What on earth is Uzumaki Naruto doing out here so late?

I should move on, this has nothing to do with me. If I leave right now, I can put this entire thing behind me and keep on blissfully ignoring the fact that I'm living in a fictional world. I've long since made peace with living in a dictatorship of magical ninja, but the fictional part is something I still do my best not to think about too deeply.

A roar erupts from the alley. No stomach should ever sound like that, but especially not that of a child. Which means my conscience won't allow me to leave. Great.

"Kid, what are you doing here?" I call out. The blonde lets out a startled yelp, before he scrambles to his feet and hides behind the dumpster. A small whiskered face pokes out from the side, bright blue eyes narrowed with suspicion.

He's almost painfully cute.

"What're _you_ doing here?" He also sounds much too accusing. I'm not the one hiding behind a dumpster.

I raise an unimpressed brow.

"I'm walking home. Shouldn't you be doing that as well?" 

His eyes narrow further until they're nothing but barely opened slits.

"Why do you care?" That question really shouldn't sound as heartbreaking as it does.

"Call it being a decent human being," I manage to return lightly instead of grimacing because of all the discomforting feels. "Empathy for random strangers and all that."

For some reason, my answer only serves to make him even more suspicious, and thus, even more cute. Be still my heart.

"You talk funny."

That's what the kid decides to focus on? To be fair, my accent is still pretty strong even after all these years. Still, really not the important issue here.

"Indeed I do. Now are you going to tell me what you're doing here or what?" I demand, refocusing on the matter at hand.

"None of your business!" he yells back, petulant in the way only children can be. I roll my eyes. He's going to make this as difficult as possible, isn't he?

"Maybe, but I'm here anyway. So I'll ask again, what are you doing here?" I wonder how many times I'm going to have to repeat myself.

"What's empathy mean?" he returns instead of answering my question, because why should he make this easy in any way?

"The ability to both imagine and understand what someone other than yourself is feeling," I explain. "You know, caring about other people's feelings," I elaborate at his still puzzled look.

The kid scoffs, derisive and way too bitter for someone so tiny.

"Like you care."

Because of course it's not enough to break my heart, he has to go and stomp on the pieces as well.

"Yeah, well, I do. Now answer the damn question." Was that too harsh?

"I don't want to!"

Apparently not. I sigh and resist the urge to rub my eyes.

"Look, kid, I'm just worried. You're way too young to be out here this late. So I'll ask one last time. What are you doing here, and shouldn't you be getting home?"

Those vivid eyes go wide with disbelief, before they fill with _tears_. Oh no. No, I am _not_ dealing with a crying child, no way, absolutely not.

God, please don't let him cry.

"Liar!" he screams, the reaction as unexpected as it is bewildering.

Before I can even attempt to regain my wits, he bolts, running by me so fast I have no chance of stopping him. Of course, I'm still too shocked to even try.

As I watch his disappearing back, I can only wonder one thing.

What the hell just happened?

* * *

The next day, I see a tuft of hair poke out from behind the dumpster. Even dirty, the color is unmistakable.

No way. Why on earth is the brat back? It's seven in the morning!

I step closer so I can look behind the dumpster. When I do, the entire situation becomes even more bewildering. It also becomes horrifying. Because the kid is sleeping. In an alley.

What the ever loving hell?

I hesitate. Part of me wants to keep walking, wants to ignore this entire situation. Except I can't just leave him here, he's only wearing a shirt and shorts for God's sake. Doesn't the kid realize that he's going to get sick?

I crouch down and gently poke his shoulder. It makes him snort and mumble something indecipherable, but he remains asleep.

Seeing him up close only reinforces the homeless urchin act he has going one. His clothes are dirty, and he smells like he hasn't showered in days. Both of which can be explained by him sleeping in a damn alley of all things.

Does he sleep here regularly? No, impossible. This is Naruto, the main character of that comic my brother liked so much. A main character wouldn't be homeless. Not when he's not even six years old. Right?

...It does sound like a tragic origin story.

No, that wouldn't happen here. Konoha is many things, most of them horrifying when thought about too deeply, but never let it be said that it doesn't care for children in its own unique way. Kids can wander the streets without fear of, well, anything. Serious accidents are magically prevented, courtesy of the passing ninja that always keep an eye on them. It’s one of the unspoken rules of this world.

Except this fact doesn't take into account that Naruto is a main character. By definition, he's an exception to the rules. Maybe even to the rules of child-care.

I've never hated the fact that I haven't read the comic as much as I do right now. Really, it's sheer luck that I even know enough to recognize the kid as the main character.

Then again, living in Konoha, it's kind of impossible to not know about the brat. Or to know that he's special.

Right now, he's just a child.

I gather my courage and shake him softly by the shoulder. It feels disturbingly thin.

The kid frowns and slowly opens those vivid eyes. He blinks up at me owlishly, before his eyes widen to an impossible size.

"AAARGH!"

His scream makes me wince, releasing my grip as I reel back.

"Good morning to you too," I snap, scowling and rubbing my ringing ears.

The kid curls into a ball. Damn it, children shouldn't ever look so scared.

"Why were you sleeping here?" I ask. I don't have much hope that he'll answer me, but the question still needs to be asked.

I'm right, the blonde keeps quiet. I feel my own eyes narrow as those blue orbs flicker to the side.

"Don't even think about it," I warn. I might've been too shocked last night, but I'm not right now. If he tries to run, I'll catch him.

He scowls.

"What're _you_ doing here?"

Of course he doesn't answer my question, that would make things far too easy.

"Answer my question and I'll answer yours," I try to bribe. It doesn't work, he only gives me a suspicious glare instead. It's completely unfair how cute he makes that look.

"I don't want to!" he yells back. If I didn't think he'd take the opportunity to run for it, I would rub my eyes with annoyance.

"Okay, let me guess. You ran away from home." Because that's the only possibility not involving child abuse that makes a lick of sense. I'm really hoping that I'm right about this.

His deepening scowl is answer enough. Bingo.

Thank God.

"Kid, you need to go back. People are going to be worried sick," I tell him, so grateful that the brat isn't homeless. I don't think my heart could've survived that.

Except his eyes fill with _tears_. Shit, head it off, head it off!

"Whatever the argument's about, I'm sure they didn't mean it," I gamble desperately. Anything to prevent him from crying.

I fail, tears start falling. A strangled noise escapes me.

He sniffles and lowers his head while hugging his knees close. It's not an exaggeration to say that this is a physically painful sight.

"No one cares about me."

My heart shatters.

"That's not true," I try to comfort, but it only serves to make his head snap up and give me a furious glare. Combined with his tears, his expression should be classified as a lethal weapon.

"Yes it is! No one does! You don't either! And I don't care, I don't need them, I don't need _anyone!_ So leave me alone!"

Dear God, I think part of me has actually died.

This will not stand.

"Where's your home? Wait, never mind, you're not going to answer. But you're an orphan, right?"

The flinch that result in feels like a knife between the ribs.

"So, the orphanage," I conclude, valiantly doing my best to ignore the systematic demise of my heart.

The kid somehow manages to curl into himself even more. I sigh, stand up, and look down at him as I debate on what to do. Well, there really is only one possible course of action. Tori will just have to forgive my tardiness.

I swoop down and pick up the brat, making sure to keep his arms and knees bound by my embrace.

"What the– Let go of me! You crazy old lady, put me down!"

Old? I'm twenty-five, thank you very much.

"You're kind of rude, you know that?" I tell him as I continue to ignore his protests and struggles. I start the long walk to the other side of the village. It isn't easy, he's a slippery one. He's also much too thin. Children are supposed to be soft and chubby, not thin and scrawny.

What the hell are they feeding him? For that matter, how on earth did he manage to run away in the first place?

* * *

"Let me get this straight. You didn't notice that he was gone for _an entire day?_ "

Sayuki, the matron of the orphanage, scowls, taking offense at my words. It's completely intended that way. What kind of caretaker doesn't realize that one of her charges has disappeared for _an entire day?_

"In case it escaped your notice, we have a great number of children under our care," she says, so very prim and proper.

It's true, the orphanage is filled to bursting. Every adult I've seen is run ragged by an unholy amount of children. It would be easy to lose track of one in this madness.

It's no excuse.

"He was sleeping on the streets! A five year old! What kind of orphanage are you running here?" I demand with a disgusted glare. I can't believe that she's actually trying to excuse this.

"I'm five-and-a-half!" the brat protests loudly from where he's standing next to me. I give him a deadpan look, before I return to condemning Sayuki with my glare. Her own scowl deepens in return.

"He always runs away, and he always comes back when he gets hungry. We have neither the time nor the manpower to search for him every time he decides to throw a temper tantrum."

"You don't have the– What the hell do you think orphanages are for? It's to take care of kids who can't take care of themselves! If you aren't doing that, then you aren't doing your job right." Seriously, it isn't complicated. Not to mention that it isn't that expensive anymore to hire some ninja to go look for the brat.

"I can so take care of myself!" Both Sayuki and I ignore the brat. I watch as she lifts her chin imperiously.

"If you find this so offending, then _you_ adopt him and take care of him instead." It's a challenge, pure and simple.

It takes the wind out of my sails, my shoulders slumping with defeat. I bring up a hand to rub my eyes. Yeah, that's not going to happen.

"I'm really not the maternal type," I mutter truthfully. The thought of being responsible for a child like that is _terrifying_. I hadn't even been able to keep my pet hamster alive. Me plus a kid would equal disaster.

"Then stop telling me how to do my job." Her command is cutting and final. I close my eyes and pinch the bridge of my nose, before I look down at the brat. He's still pouting petulantly.

I sigh. I've been doing that much too often today.

Crouching down in front of the blonde, I give him my most serious look.

"Brat. Stop running away. It's not healthy," I order even though I don't have any hope of him obeying.

"Why do you care?" There's something desperate hidden underneath his words, something that tugs at my heartstrings once more.

"Because you're a kid. You deserve to be happy and safe," I tell him the truth.

Again, tears fill his eyes. Why do I keep making this kid cry? It's horrifying.

Releasing another sigh, I lift a hand to ruffle his hair, ignoring the dirt and grime. He freezes beneath my touch.

"You be good now, you hear me?" With those words, I stand up and walk out of the office, resolutely not looking back.

I've had enough distressing feels for one day.

* * *

"I can't believe you were late because of the demon brat," Renji repeats yet again while scowling my way. I valiantly keep on ignoring him.

"Leave her alone, I think it's sweet." At least Tori is being supportive.

" _Sweet?_ You know what it did, how can you–"

"He's a five year old child. What was I supposed to do, just leave him there?" I snap, fed up with his behavior. Yes, I understand why, but damn it all, Naruto is _not_ the Fox. He's a child. Children aren't supposed to live on the streets. It's as simple as that.

"Yes!" Renji yells back, vicious and hateful in a way only this topic can make him. "Maybe he would've done us all a favor and _died._ "

I stare. I can't believe he just said that.

"Renji..." Tori is just as shocked as I am.

Very carefully, I put down the kettle I'd been washing. I'm afraid I might throw it at his head otherwise.

"I'm going to overlook that because I know you've been through more than anyone should. But Renji, I swear, if you ever say that again, if you ever again wish for the death of _an innocent child_ , I will stab you in the balls with a rusted knife. Do I make myself clear?"

Renji looks so conflicted, as if part of him can't believe he said that either. But also as if part of him completely means it. After a few tense moments, he gives a curt nod.

The silence that follows is heavy and strained.

It's going to be a long day.

* * *

"...Why are you back here?" I demand slowly.

The brat shuffles his feet. It hasn't even been a week and he's already back in the exact same alley. At least he looks clean this time. Though he still refuses to answer. Instead, he keeps standing there, looking like a hopeful puppy.

But it's neither too late in the evening nor too early in the morning. I'm not responsible for this. I'm not.

Nodding to myself, I spin on my heel and keep on walking. I make it three houses past, before I stop and let out a loud groan. I stomp back towards the alley.

Stupid conscience.

The brat is still standing in the exact same spot, looking so forlorn he just might as well stab me in the back. I'm sure that would be less painful. Fortunately, he perks up when I return.

I cross my arms and scowl down at him.

"Did you run away again?" That's the most important thing here.

He hesitates and shuffles his feet some more. Why does he have to be so _cute?_ This would be so much less painful if he wasn't.

He doesn't answer, but I'm not going to give in this time. I keep quiet and stare the five year old down. How mature of me. It works, though.

"No," he finally mumbles, so clearly lying that it isn't even funny. I can feel a headache coming on.

"You..." I flail an arm, unable to articulate a response. Seriously? _Seriously?_

I look up at the heavens, praying for strength. When I look down again, I get sucker punched by an expression filled with a breathtaking amount of hope.

Too. Adorable. It isn't a compliment.

"Alright. I can do this," I encourage myself, and pick up the brat as his expression changes to one of confusion. At least he doesn't struggle this time. Instead, his arms hesitantly come up around my neck in a tentative embrace.

Shut up, heart!

I resolutely start marching towards the orphanage, determined to get him back as soon as possible so I can forget this entire incident ever happened. But of course his stomach starts growling before we get there. At least it isn't an unholy roar this time.

"When is the last time you ate?" I demand. It comes out more sharply than intended, courtesy of the headache that's broken through.

"Dunno. An hour, I guess," he mumbles, vivid eyes observing me with a wary delight. Effortlessly reaching inside my chest and strangling my heart.

I give him an incredulous look. One hour, and his stomach already sounds like that? Just how much does this kid need to eat?

I sigh, exasperated with myself. Screw my weakness for all things cute. Looking around, I spot a grocery shop nearby. There's some fruit on the stands outside. Good enough.

I walk over, shift my hold on the brat a little, pick up two apples, and march inside towards the counter. The woman behind it flicker her gaze between me and the brat, before looking at me like I've sprouted two heads, but I can't find it within myself to even pretend to care. If she has a problem with me carrying 'the demon brat', she can go choke on it.

Thankfully, she keeps quiet.

I pull out with my wallet and manage to pull out enough money after some one-handed fumbling.

"Keep the change," I tell her. It startles her out of her shock, and she starts opening her mouth. Presumably to say something, but I don't stay long enough to find out.

When we're back on the street, I tug at the brat's arm until he lets go of my neck and push an apple into his hand.

"Eat," I order while resolutely keeping my gaze on the street in front of me instead of the brat. I just know those eyes have turned into lethal weapons once more.

The sound of munching reaches my ears. When the sounds stop, I give him the second apple. He eats that one in silence as well. Honestly, this kid.

He keeps quiet the rest of the way. I'm glad for that. I just want this entire thing to be over.

Finally, the orphanage comes into view. Not a moment too soon, my back is starting to hurt. Muscled I am not.

I put the brat down and point towards the building.

"Go inside," I order, but of course the brat aims those lethal weapons my way. He looks desperately hopeful. For what, I don't know, but that doesn't affect the sheer power of his weaponized cuteness. I rub my eyes to escape the view, if only for a moment.

"Brat, go inside. And don't leave again."

He doesn't obey, just keeps _looking_ at me. Mortally wounding me without any remorse whatsoever.

I spin on my heel and start walking away. After a few paces, I stop and look over my shoulder.

He's still standing there, but now he looks like a puppy. A kicked one.

Just go. Keep on walking, you've done your good deed, now leave.

My feet carry me back. Traitors.

It makes the brat perk up with sucker punching hope. I crouch down in front of him. Up close, the staggering power of his impossible adorableness manages to become even greater.

I put my hand on the top of his head and put enough pressure on it to make him turn around and face the orphanage.

"Go inside," I order again, though not as harshly as before. It's a lot easier to look at his back, lessening the intensity of the assault on my heart by a huge amount.

Messing up his hair on impulse, I stand up and give him a gentle push forward. It almost makes him stumble, before looks over his shoulder with a disbelieving delight that's even more powerful than his kicked puppy mode. I narrow my eyes and point towards the entrance.

"Inside!" I command in a raised voice. The brat finally bolts towards the doors. He opens them, but then he halts and turns to face me again.

He gives me the most breathtaking, most _adorable_ smile in existence. It's like the sun breaking through where before there had only been darkness. My poor heart melts into a puddle of goo.

With the greatest of efforts, I manage a warning glare. For some reason, it makes his sunshine smile grow even brighter.

Then he finally slips inside the building and shuts the door. Thank God, now I can finally put this entire thing behind me.

* * *

"No, I am _not_ doing this again."

This time it hasn't even been three days, yet here he is. Standing in the same damn alley and looking like a hopeful puppy once more.

I rub my eyes, desperately praying this is just some hallucination my mind has cooked up. But no, he's still there.

"...This is going to become a thing, isn't it?" It's a rhetorical question, but it makes the brat beam like the sun. I let out a defeated sigh.

"Fine. But I'm not carrying you, you're way too heavy." I have to set some boundaries, if only to spare my back.

The brat's sunshine smile turns into an affronted expression.

"I'm not fat!" he exclaims. Apparently he isn't mute anymore.

"True, you're way too scrawny," I agree. "But I'm lazy and don't feel like carrying you across the village. Especially if you're going to keep doing this. I'd break my back."

The brat looks horrified, and I can't help but let out an amused snort.

"Figure of speech, I wouldn't actually break my back." I could potentially develop a hernia, though. So, no carrying the brat back to the orphanage. Not when it's already clear that this is going to become a regular thing.

I hold out a hand for him to take.

"Come on, let's get this over with."

He stares at my hand like he hasn't ever seen one before. Or rather, like no one's ever offered one to him.

I force myself to roll my eyes, mentally cursing my weakness for all things cute once more.

"I haven't got all day, brat. Let's go."

He hesitantly comes closer, before his own hand comes up with agonizing slowness. It's like he's expecting me to yank my hand back and say it's all a joke. Will this kid continue breaking my heart every time we meet? No, I will built up immunity if I keep being exposed. Of course I will.

When his hand finally grips mine, he melts my heart into a puddle of goo with another sunshine smile. I gently tug him along as I start walking.

"Did you have lunch at least?" I ask in an effort to distract myself from all the feels.

"Nope," he cheerfully informs me. Cheeky brat. I give him a halfhearted glare. His answering grin is wide and unrepentant.

"Fine. I'll buy you some dango or something," I mutter. I won't be buying him unhealthy things all the time, but right now I'm feeling vicious.

If the orphanage doesn't want him hyped up on sugar, they should've kept a better eye on him.

His grin grows even larger. Combined with his whiskers, it makes him look incredibly foxy.

I need make sure Renji never sees him like this. Or rather, I need to make sure he never sees the brat in general.

"Hey, hey, what's your name?" he demands. I blink down at him with confusion, before I mentally go over our previous encounters and realize that I never told him my name. Huh.

"Mary. Well, Mariko, but my friends call me Mary." Everyone does, really. I'm lucky that my name has an equivalent in Nihongo. I'm even more lucky that my 'official' name makes it seem like my real one is a logical nickname.

The brat stops moving. When I look down at him to find out why, I immediately wish I hadn't because _those_ _eyes_. Oh God, stop looking at me like that!

"We're friends?" His whisper is just as desperately hopeful as the lethal weapons aimed my way, and it eradicates what remains of my heart.

"Sure, brat, we are," I say in a much too soft voice. I would curse my weakness for all things cute yet again, except he gives me a shy smile that somehow outshines the sun itself, and it makes it impossible to regret my words.

The brat lets go of my hand and surges forward to hug one of my legs like he's a particularly stubborn weed.

I give up.

Letting out a sigh, I reach down to ruffle his hair. It's addictive to do so, the wild locks are even softer than they look.

"Come on, Naruto, let's get you home."

The brat jerks up his head and looks at me with impossibly wide eyes, before he beams like the sun.

"Okay, Meiri!" His pronunciation of my name is a lot closer to the real thing than anyone else has ever bothered to do. I finally allow myself to smile back.

"...You do realize you'll have to let go of me, right?" I ask when he doesn't make a move to stop clinging to my leg.

The brat gains a mischievous look and hugs my leg even tighter.

"No!" he exclaims with a foxy grin. I can't help the rueful twist of my lips. Such a cheeky brat.

I start walking again while dragging my leg along, and by extension, the brat as well. The giggles he lets out in return make me feel all mushy and warm.

Maybe this won't be so bad.

* * *

* * *

Subject:  
Takahashi Mariko  
(see personal history for pictures)

Personal Information:  
Female  
Birth Date: 2 May 51 AWE  
Konoha native  
Father: Takahashi Daisuke (deceased)  
Mother: Takahashi Rumiko (deceased)  
Civilian upbringing and education  
Waitress at tea house, the Dancing Dragon  
Author of fictional literary series, Once Upon A Time  
(see personal history for further details)

Distinguishing attributes:  
Unique speech pattern, vowels bitten back and consonants drawn out  
Permanently damaged chakra system from the Kyuubi Attack  
(see medical records for further details)

Observation:  
Jinchuuriki regularly seeks the subject out. Subject buys the Jinchuuriki food and returns him to the orphanage. No deviation of pattern has been observed so far.  
Subject's behavior appear to be motivated by protective feelings towards children in general, and growing affection for the Jinchuuriki in particular. No visible interest in the Jinchuuriki's burden.  
(see observation log for further information)

Prediction:  
The emotional attachment between the subject and the Jinchuuriki will continue to increase. Subject will gain moral authority over the jinchuuriki as a result. Subject will not consciously abuse this authority. Subject will provide a positive social influence on the Jinchuuriki.  
(see threat assessment for in depth analysis)

Conclusion:  
Poses no immediate threat. No intervention is needed at this time.


	3. Sometimes

"No cheating," I warn one last time.

"Ninja," he counters like him being one somehow invalidates my warning. I give him a dirty look, but feel it transform into a mischievous smile as inspiration rises. If that's the way he wants to play...

"If you're going to be like that, I can always stop," I say as I lean back. I'm expecting the gloved hand that twines through my hair and halts my movement.

"No," he says, previous amusement gone. I chuckle.

"If you don't want me to stop..." I murmur in a low voice as I bring up a hand to lay on his knee. I dig my nails into the fabric. Hard. "Don't. Cheat."

He keeps my head tilted back a moment longer, before he releases his grip and places both his hands on the bed. His silent agreement makes me chuckle again, though for a different reason than before. Having a ninja obey my commands is a delicious power trip, it really is. Him being an elite ninja only makes it better.

I quiet down as I look him over and realize there's an unforeseen complication to my plan.

"I have no idea how to even begin opening your pants." Not with that kind of armor in the way.

He tilts his head back and laughs. It pulls the lines of his covered throat taut, and the sight is impossibly enticing. I want to pull down the fabric and suck and nibble until uncovered skin is ruined by hickeys.

The bleached mask comes down again, shadows where eyes should be meeting me own. Somehow, he still manages to radiate amusement.

His hands come up, and those talented fingers disappear underneath the edge of pale armor. My own gaze is drawn towards his upper arms. I watch the play of muscles that small sliver of skin reveals, as well as the tattoo I want to trace with my tongue. Again.

"Is there a reason you're so fascinated by my biceps, or is this just another one of your quirks?" he teases. I answer without moving my eyes away from that sliver of exposed skin.

"Seeing as they're literally the only part of you that your uniform doesn't cover up, I think my mild obsession is entirely justified."

"And here I thought you have a kink for men in uniform."

"The unavoidable consequence of having a lover who never wears anything else. Though I'll admit that the armor does very nice things to me."

"Always happy to serve."

"You are a true patriot. Now shut up, I need to focus," I order as his pants are finally undone. I have no idea how he did it, and I don't care either. The bare skin on display demands all my attention. He isn't completely hard yet, but the twitch I manage to inspire simply by looking...

I can work with this.

Looking up at him through my lashes, I give a sultry smile and lean back on my knees. He does so enjoy my shows.

My hands come up to caress my hips. Slowly, I slide them up higher. I cup my breasts and arch my back, pushing them together. An offering.

Another twitch.

I scrape down my nails _hard_. The sensation makes me gasp, and I close my eyes as I savor the burn. Knowing that he's watching just makes everything better.

I shiver as I brush my hands downwards, a soft touch now. The contrast heightens the pleasure. When my hands reach my stomach, I stop and open my eyes.

He's still in the way only a ninja can be. A predator watching his prey.

Perfect.

I open my knees, and I swear I see a shiver pass through him. My hands go lower, a soft caress at first, before turning sharp. Just the way I like it.

My breathing speeds up as I slip two fingers inside. Enough to be full, not enough to be fulfilled. A delicious tease. I moan.

His hands grip the sheets.

I halt my movements, before I bring up a glistening hand and lean forward.

I touch him. The harsh breath he lets out is delicious.

I start stroking him, use a rhythm with just enough surprise, the wetness of my own desire making the movements fluid. His breathing deepens, the shadows of his eyes never moving away from my own, trapping me beneath his gaze.

I feel so empowered.

I halt my caressing. Leaning forward, I let my breath ghost across.

Another twitch.

I brush my lips over velvet skin, before pulling back. One of his hands makes an aborted movement towards me, but he clenches his fist and puts it back down the bed. He still remembers the rules.

That won't do at all.

Giving him a mischievous smile, I place my lips down the tip and let my tongue play with the slit. The taste of him is heady.

Not as heady as the way I can _feel_ a shiver run through him.

Mentally preparing myself, I swallow him almost completely without warning. The choked up sound he lets out is _perfect_. I hollow my cheeks as I suck and use my tongue to caress and taste, take him as deep as I can and feel him hit the back of my throat. He lets out a soft groan.

I hum.

His fingers tangle through my hair, clutching at the strands with desperation, on the edge of becoming painful as he pushes me down even further and almost makes me choke. I barely manage to keep my throat relaxed.

His reaction is _exactly_ what I wanted.

Curling my tongue, I hum again.

The _sounds_ he makes. It's enough to make me shiver.

I pull back a little, but can't get far away. Not with him holding my hair captive. He's unwilling, unable to let me go.

He's forgotten the rules. Excellent.

Breathing evenly through my nose as I prepare for what I'm about to do, I give him one last look through my lashes. Then I swallow him to the root, humming harshly, making my very throat vibrate.

A hoarse shout, fingers yanking at my hair, his hips snapping up, liquid coating my throat. He's completely undone.

I slowly pull back and lick up the few spilled drops across my lips. A satisfied grin grows as I look up and see him leaning back on the mattress. One arm his supporting himself like he's unable continue sitting upright without it.

I'm so proud of myself.

His fingers slowly release their grip on my hair. My scalp still stings from his grip, but only in the best of ways. It's truly impressive that he didn't cross the line from pleasurable pain into plain pain. And that he didn't yank some of my hair out. Ninja control at it's finest.

A control I've managed to partially break.

"So," I begin without any effort to disguise just how smug I'm feeling. "Did I meet your expectations?"

In a movement so fast I can't process it, I'm pulled up from the floor and pushed down the bed with my hands held captive above my head. He looms over me, shadows holding my gaze.

"Not bad," he says oh so casually. I laugh.

"Please, I ruined you," I return with supreme confidence. It's cute how he's trying to deny it, though.

"Is that so?" he counters, amused.

"It is," I confirm.

"Allow me to return the favor."

I raise a brow, intrigued. I'm definitely not going to say no to that, but I do wonder how he's planning to pull it off.

"By all means. Though I think your usual attire might cause some issues." Kind of hard to give head when you're wearing a mask.

"That's not what I meant."

Damn, that's a real shame.

"Oh?" I say in a request for him to elaborate. While it's a shame that he's planning something different than what I expected, I'm very curious as to what he thinks would be a suitable return favor. I'm sure he won't disappoint.

"Really, fine chakra control is underrated." His free hand comes up. Small sparks start dancing across his fingers. "With enough precision, there are some very interesting applications."

My eyes widen.

Oh.

I was right, he doesn't disappoint. At all.


	4. Offering Kindness (Has Repercussions)

Where am I?

" **Don't cry, honey, please don't cry.** "

" **Get a medic, he's seizing!** "

What is this place?

" **I want my daddy!** "

" **Make it stop, just make it stop!** "

What's going on?

" **Mariko? Mariko!** "

An older man grips my shoulders, tearful eyes meet my own. He's smiling.

" **You're alive, thank the gods, you're– oh.** "

His smile fades away.

" **I– I'm sorry, miss, I thought you were... Never mind.** "

He lets go and turns away. I grasp his arm without making the conscious decision to do so. I'm lost, scared, confused.

I don't understand.

"Where am I?"

" **What?** "

"Please. Please, I don't understand."

" **Are you alr– stupid question. Do you need anything?** "

"Please. Please, please, please, please."

I'm crying, pleading for the world to make sense.

I want to go home _._

Arms embrace me, offering warmth, comfort, safety. I clutch back with desperation.

" **Shh, it's okay, it'll be alright. Things will get better, you'll see. You're going to be alright.** "

* * *

* * *

"The Ninja Academy," I say in a flat voice while giving the brat an unimpressed look. It doesn't deter him in the slightest.

"Yeah, Sayuki said I can finally start this year! I'm gonna be the bestest ninja ever, dattebayo!"

I feel my eye twitch. The idea of the brat being turned into a killing machine is horrifying.

Alright, that's unfair of me. It's not like ninja are serial killers. They are, however, part of a very active military. I have no problem with that when it comes to adults, but when it comes to _child soldiers_...

I shudder just from thinking about it. Children should play in the mud and be forced to sit through boring mathematics, _not_ learn the most effective ways to kill someone. Or learn how to infiltrate, how to gather information, and other general spyness. And they learn magic, of course. Most horrifying of all, they learn _combat_ magic.

"Right," I mutter, so disturbed with this entire conversation and the stark reminder that I'm living in a military dictatorship which produces child soldiers.

Naruto's expression turns crestfallen, immediately pulling me from my morbid thoughts.

"You don't think I can be a ninja?" he asks in a small voice, looking so hurt and discouraged that it's physically painful to see. I would lie just to ensure he no longer looks like that. Fortunately, I don't need to lie.

"I think you'll be the strongest ninja ever." He's the main character, of course he's going to be amazing. Even if it's truly horrifying to think of the brat as a ninja.

On the other hand, the Fox is going to make him a target no matter what. That's what the whole plot was about, right? Something like that. The details aren't important, the fact that he's a main character in a superhero comicsays everything there is to know about his future. I do my best not to think about this too deeply, because while stories like that are fun to read, the implications are terrifying when applied to real life.

My words make Naruto shine brighter than the sun.

"Yeah, I'm gonna be the strongest ever! You'll see, Mary-nee!"

I have to smile at his reaction. Naruto's cheer is infectious as ever.

"I'm sure you will be."

* * *

"You know I don't do children's clothing," Shiro says with his version of a harsh frown. Which means his brows are creased a minuscule fraction.

"Come on, just this once," I try to cajole.

"No," he rebukes, unyielding in his refusal. Doesn't mean I'm about to give up.

"Please? For me?" That works far more often than it should.

"No."

It isn't working this time. A different tactic is needed.

"But look at him," I say as I wave a hand towards the brat wandering around in rare silence. He looks adorable when awed. "Don't you want to see what he'd look like when dressed properly?"

Shiro keeps silent, but I know his refusal is just a little less firm than before. Shiro doesn't love making clothes, he makes clothes because he loves dressing people. The more strikingly colored they are, the better.

Naruto has near golden hair and eyes that put the sky to shame.

"That hair, those eyes. Tell me you're not itching to bring out their potential." Sure, I'm laying it on thick, but whatever works.

It does work. While Shiro is still wearing his harsh frown, I can tell he's wavering. Time for the finishing blow.

"If you don't do it, we'll have to go to _Madam Kaguya's_." This is a lie, I would never betray Shiro by going to his hated rival. He knows it too, but that doesn't change the effectiveness of my words. As evidenced by the way his lips curl down a fraction. A pained grimace of defeat.

It takes a huge effort to suppress my victorious grin.

"...Fine," he agrees reluctantly. Now I can let my grin break through.

Too easy. I didn't even have to bring up Naruto's love for blindingly bright colors and the potential fashion disaster that could lead to.

"You're the best." My sincere compliment results in another harsh frown.

"One time," he warns. I give an agreeing nod.

As if. There's no way Shiro is going to be able to resist the urge to dress the brat after doing it once.

"Naruto, get over here!" I call out. He comes over, looking bedazzled by the various outfits on display. He hasn't been here before and it shows.

Rukia trails behind him with an amused smile.

"I take it we're making him some clothes?" she asks like she doesn't already know the answer. Shiro lets out a slightly deeper breath than usual. A great, resigned sigh.

"So it seems," he says, before he looks over Naruto with what I like to call his artist eyes.

"Late sunset," he muses. Rukia hums as she turns assessing eyes towards Naruto as well.

"Sunny skies," she suggests instead. With that, the fashion process is officially underway.

"Nature in bloom."

"Classical Leaf style?"

"Too subtle, he needs bold colors."

I let the professionals work with a smile. The sight of them gazing down at the brat like two ravenous wolves is hilarious.

Naruto, on the other hand, looks completely lost. He's never seen the fashion duo in business mode before, and it makes him aim panicked eyes my way. Under these circumstances, that just makes everything even funnier. I wink at him.

"Don't worry, Shiro and Rukia know what they're doing. When you start the Academy, you're going to be the most fashionable brat to ever attend," I tell him. He doesn't look reassured.

"I don't have money for this," he says in an unusually subdued way. The two wolves ignore it as they keep bouncing ideas. I myself just wave the words away. The brat is always self-conscious about his lack of money, in a way that's ridiculous for his age. Comes from being an orphan, I suppose.

"Consider it a starting present." In the months I've known him, I've never seen the brat wear anything other than long shorts and too big t-shirts, alongside the occasional jumper on the rare occasions the temperature warrants it. Orphans don't have the luxury of anything more than the basics. Really, the brat should have at least one outfit for special occasions.

What's more special to a child than his first day at school?

"A... a present? For me?" His smile is so shy and delighted that it turns my heart into a puddle of goo.

"Yeah, Naruto. For you," I say softly, can't help it. Not when faced with an expression like that.

Naruto's smile grows until it outshines the sun, before he races forward and attacks my leg with a hug.

"Mary-nee, you're the best!"

I chuckle and ruffle his hair. Rukia looks like she's just a second away from cooing as she looks down at him. Always nice to see I'm not the only one affected.

Shiro isn't affected in the slightest, of course. This has less to do with an immunity to Naruto's weaponized cuteness and more with the fact that the outside world no longer exists to him.

His eyes are gleaming with passion.

Really, Naruto is going to walk out of here with an entire wardrobe in the works.

* * *

"Say what? Repeat that."

"When I'm twelve, I get to live on my own! Isn't that so cool, nee-chan?"

No. No, it absolutely is not. Twelve year olds should _never_ live on their own. I can feel a headache coming on.

"And why exactly is that?" I ask, unable to believe that we're having this conversation.

"That's what Sayuki said. She said if I'm still in the Academy when I'm twelve, I get my own apartment _and_ my own money! It's awesome!" The brat is being much too enthusiastic about this.

I rub my eyes. Unbelievable. Sayuki wouldn't lie to him, though. The matron might not particularly care for Naruto, but she doesn't particularly dislike him either. At least, not because of the Fox. She just has a lot of trouble with Naruto because he's an incredibly demanding child. Incredibly cute as well, but so damn demanding. The caretakers at the orphanage simply aren't capable of meeting his constant need for one on one attention, there are too many other children to look after.

I never thought that could mean they'll just throw him out like this. Years from now, true, but living alone at twelve is only marginally better than living alone at five– excuse me, at five-but-almost-six. Which means it's horrifying instead of catastrophic.

I look towards Tori to make sure I'm not imagining this conversation. Judging from her amused giggles and complete lack of horror, I'm not. Damn it.

"Why?" I ask the world without expecting an answer.

"Near everyone who makes it to the final year of the Academy graduates. Ninja are adults the moment they get their headband. It's easier for the orphanage to let those children go a little earlier instead of keeping them around. Especially with their present numbers. It's on a probationary basis. If they fail, they're still minors."

Renji is resolutely not looking our way, wiping down a table as if it's the most vital task in the universe. I stare at him, stunned. When Naruto is here, it's rare for Renji to speak more than two words to me, never mind a spontaneous explanation like that.

Renji has truly exceeded my every expectation these past months. While he has moments where he needs to be away from me, he's careful to ensure our friendship remains intact. Most of the time, that's easy to do. When Naruto isn't around, Renji is fine. When Naruto is here, though...

I try to keep Naruto away from the Dancing Dragon, I really do. But I spend a lot of time here, which means I can't prevent it from happening. The brat can come and go whenever he wants during the day, and he mercilessly exploits that privilege. He shows up here almost every day.

Renji has never aimed even a single bad word at Naruto. In fact, he somehow manages to always ignore Naruto's very presence. The brat's loudness makes that an amazing accomplishment for anyone, but for Renji...

I meet him halfway as best I can.

I act normal.

"That's insane," I point out while placing my hand across Naruto's opening mouth when he glares at Renji.

Naruto hates being ignored. It's taken a huge effort to ensure he leaves Renji alone, and I'm not going to let the brat ruin this fragile moment by being his usual brash self. I ignore his betrayed puppy look with a lot less effort than I otherwise would. I won't budge on this. He needs to leave Renji alone.

"Ninja are insane," I continue, because really, who thinks a system that makes twelve year old kids live on their own is a good idea? Ninja, that's who.

Tori turns her concerned gaze away from Renji to give me a bright smile.

"Of course, that's what makes them so great!"

I roll my eyes. Even civilians are brainwashed here.

Looking back down at the brat, I raise a brow as he licks my palm in an effort to dislodge it. Amateur.

"In that case, you're definitely going to become Hokage. You're the craziest person I know," I tell him, making sure his attention is back on me before I remove my hand. His giant grin lets me know I've succeeded.

"Yeah! The Hokage are the strongest, right? I'm going to be better than all of them, dattebayo! Then people won't be mean to me anymore!"

How does the brat keep doing this? Someone so loud shouldn't be capable of being so heart wrenching.

Renji disappears into the kitchen with a pile of dirty dishes as an excuse. We aren't going to be seeing him again.

"I'm sure you will be! You just have to work _really_ hard. Becoming Hokage isn't easy, you know." Bless Tori, always there with genuine cheer and enthusiasm.

"I know that! I'm still going to do it, just you watch!" Such an unbelievably loud little brat. No wonder he and Tori get along so well.

Tori crosses over and ruffles his hair, the soft locks too alluring to resist now that Renji's gone. As always, it makes a sunshine smile appear. That expression hasn't become any less effective, no matter how often I see it. I take comfort in the fact that Tori is just as moved.

But as her gaze slides towards the kitchen, her worry returns. Time for us to leave.

"Come on, brat, say goodbye. It's late and we need to get you back."

Tori turns a grateful look my way, and it helps lessen my guilt a fraction. But what am I supposed to do, forbid Naruto from coming here? I can't do that, it isn't fair to him.

Him being here isn't fair to Renji either.

"Already? Can't we stay a little longer?" The puppy eyes are strong with this one. Exposure has made me capable of projecting an illusion of being unaffected.

The problem is that the brat knows it's an illusion.

"Please, please, pretty please?" And he's actually learned to turn up the power. Manipulative little brat.

"No." I'm proud of how firm my voice is.

Naruto adds a pout. Nope, not going to work. Mostly because I turn my gaze towards the ceiling. Avoidance, the best way to deal with this.

Tori's renewed giggles are not helping.

I hear his chair creak as he gets off it, before he comes over and small hands tug at my pants. Don't look down, don't look down.

I look down. Damn it.

Huge, soulful eyes, shimmering with a hint of tears, made even more powerful by a trembling lower lip. I am defeated effortlessly.

"If we leave now, you can stay over at my place." I'm so weak.

The brat's act disappears like smoke and is replaced by a foxy grin, radiating satisfaction and smugness in equal amount.

"Tomorrow too, right?" he demands. I let out a sigh, but I can't help the wry twist of my lips. Offer the brat a finger and he takes an arm.

"Tomorrow too," I give in.

Tiny arms hug my waist while a sunny and breathtaking smile is aimed up at me. Really, how am I supposed to defend myself against this?

"Mary-nee, you're the best!"

I sigh again, even as I feel my smile grow.

"Yes, yes, I know. Now go say goodbye."

The brat skips towards Tori. Who is looking at me in a pointed way.

Honestly, the fact that I sometimes let Naruto stay over in my spare room doesn't mean anything. Nor does the fact that he visits me daily. Or that I always make him lunch. And often dinner as well.

I'm not his guardian, nope, no way.

...They can't really expect him to go live on his own. Right?

* * *

How did it come to this? Oh wait, I remember now. My weakness for all things cute.

I try to give the brat a serious look, but I'm immediately forced to close my eyes. This is important, don't be weak, don't be weak.

I open my eyes and clear my throat.

"If we're going to do this, we need clear ground rules. You _will_ follow them. Got it?"

Dear God, those eyes, the glimmer of tears, the trembling lips. Worst of all, it's entirely natural, not a hint of manipulation in sight.

"Got it." Of course he has to sound choked up as well. Clearly that expression alone isn't lethal enough. Why do I keep doing this to myself? This is going to end in disaster, I just know it.

Even with that conviction, I still raise my index finger.

"First. You will go to the Academy every day and complete all your homework." School is important, no matter how horrifying the subjects. His already starting to become regular skipping is unacceptable.

I wait until he nods in agreement. Words seem to be beyond him.

I do my best to ignore the tightness of my own throat and raise a second digit.

"Second. You will never go out training without supervision." He's a brat, he isn't old enough to do that unsupervised. Ninja might be insane, but I'm not.

He nods again, looking even more choked up than before. Damn it, my own eyes are starting to sting.

I order myself to keep going and raise a third digit.

"Third. You will go to bed on time, eat all your vegetables, wash every day, and _listen to me_ when I tell you to do something." He needs to know that he's not going to get away with as much anymore. He needs to _listen_. Otherwise this is never going to work.

Another nod. I swallow my too tight throat and put down my hand. I give him a fierce look.

"Finally. You will not call me mother, mom, mommy, or any other variant. I'll be your guardian, but I'm not a mother to _anyone_. Got it?" I can't do this without that distinction. Which might be irrational, but I don't care in the slightest. This is terrifying enough already.

"Got it," Naruto manages to whisper as a few tears slide down his cheeks. The sight makes my breath hitch, and I blink furiously to keep my own tears from breaking through. I'm not going to cry, I am absolutely not.

Not yet.

"Alright. I can do this," I encourage myself, and take a fortifying breath.

I pick up the pen. Put it to the paper.

I hesitate, blind terror attacking with a vengeance. Which is ridiculous, I've gone to war with an unholy abomination masquerading as paperwork to get permission to do this.

But if I sign, there's no going back. Do I really want to be responsible for a child like this? Be responsible for his happiness and safety, his care and comfort. Be responsible for making sure that Naruto grows up into a decent person.

Can I stand watching him face danger after danger, knowing that I can't prevent it from happening. Knowing that I won't be able to protect him.

No matter how much I wish I could.

I look at him. He's still staring at me like I'm a desperate dream come true.

I can't back out now. It would destroy him.

Sucking in a deep breath, I pen down my signature. It's official, it's done.

I am Uzumaki Naruto's guardian. God have mercy.

As Naruto surges forward and almost strangles my neck with the force of his embrace, his entire body shaking with the force of his sobs of joy, I can't find it within myself to regret any of it.

This can only end in disaster. But what a way to go.

* * *

"Shh, it's okay, you're fine, I'm fine, we're all fine. Stop crying, _please_ ," I beg as I continue rubbing his back, desperately trying to calm him down.

"They wanted to hurt you!" Naruto wails into my shoulder. The fact that those drunks wanted to hurt him is a lot more distressing, actually.

"I would've kicked them in the balls before that happened," I try to reassure him. The continuation of his soul shredding sobs lets me know how spectacularly I've failed at that. My heart is dust in the wind, and my adrenaline is still at an all time high.

"Come on, it wasn't that bad. That ninja took care of them easily. Nothing happened, there's no reason to be upset." A blatant lie, but dear God, I just need him to _stop crying_.

Naruto's head snaps up and he gives me a furious glare. This is only a partial improvement, because seeing his ruddy face and still tear filled eyes succeeds in destroying the remnants of my heart down to the molecular level.

"I should've protected you! I'm a ninja too! I should've been stronger!" he yells. While the sentiment is sweet, there's no way in hell that I'm going to encourage such stupidity.

"You're a small and scrawny academy student. You would've been destroyed."

His face crumbles and he sniffles as new tears start sliding down. I let out a pained noise. Quick, what can I say that's both comforting and not stupidity encouraging?

"Listen, Naruto. Just because you're not strong now doesn't mean you won't be later. And until you are strong, it's okay to let other people take care of you." There, that should do the trick.

Please, please, _please_ let it do the trick.

It doesn't, his lips tremble harder and tears drip down faster, on the verge of erupting into soul shredding cries once more. Head it off! Distract him!

"Did you see how fast that ninja moved?" I ask in a burst of inspiration. "One moment we're running, and the next, fwoosh. Those drunks didn't stand a chance! It was amazing, wasn't it?"

His lips keep trembling, but his tears stop falling, thank God. I need to remain careful though, this can easily turn catastrophic again.

"...I guess," he mumbles. I let out my most disbelieving scoff.

"You guess? I never knew someone could be so fast! Just bang, smack, pow and they were gone! It was _awesome_ ," I emphasize, forcing myself to grin.

Naruto gives a wobbly smile! Success!

"It was pretty cool," he says, no longer on the verge of lethal sobbing. For that, I want to cry with relief myself. Obviously, I don't do that. It would ruin all the progress I've made.

"It was _very_ cool," I correct with a sage nod.

"Do you think I'll ever be that strong?" he asks, insecure in a way he almost never is.

"Of course," I confirm without hesitation. I have no doubt that he will be. "And if you're not stronger, you just have to be sneakier. If that doesn't work, you run away and come back later with friends." Might as well take the opportunity to impart some valuable life lessons.

Naruto gives me a highly indignant look. It's a beautiful sight, it really is.

"I'm not gonna run away! And I don't need help!"

I'm so glad he's back to his usual volume.

"Then you're an idiot," I feel confident enough to say without fear of immediate catastrophe. Again, I'm not going to encourage stupidity. "Running away is a good strategy for staying alive. And everyone needs help sometimes, you can do more together than you can alone. Only dumb morons don't realize that. And only prideful idiots turn down help."

Naruto looks incredibly insulted. The sight is even more beautiful than the last. While his eyes are still red and his face is a mess of snot and tears, the danger of renewed disaster seems to have officially passed.

Thank God.

"So," I continue in a firm voice. "Repeat after me. I will run away if a fight seems hopeless."

The brat keeps quiet with a mulish expression.

"Naruto..." I warn. He lets out a dramatic sigh that tells me exactly how much he doesn't want to do this. It's wonderful to hear.

"I will run away if a fight seems hopeless," he repeats with great reluctance. As long as he obeys, I don't care in the slightest.

"If I'm not strong enough to beat someone, I will go and find someone to help me," I continue, because that and the previous are the most important rules for him to follow in a fight. Cowardly? Perhaps. I like to think of it as common sense.

"If I'm not strong enough to beat someone, I will go and find someone to help me," he repeats just as reluctantly as before.

"...I will unleash unholy pranks on any who hurt me or my friends."

Naruto gains a sunshine smile.

"I will unleash unholy pranks on any who hurt me or my friends, dattebayo!"

Thought that might work.

He surges forward and buries his face in my neck once more, clutching me tightly. He starts crying again, but it's not the soul destroying sobs from before, just a release from the mess of emotions this night has brought. My heart starts creeping back into my chest, and I let out a relieved sigh.

Note to self: don't _ever_ take Naruto out on his birthday.

* * *

The brat is asleep at last. Which means I can _finally_ allow myself to freak out.

"Shit," I mutter into my hands, feeling so worn down.

Shit, we were _attacked_. It doesn't matter that they were drunk and not in their right mind. We were attacked. Threatened and in very real danger.

What would've happened if that ANBU hadn't been there?

Shit. Shit, fuck, and God damn it all to hell.

This has been the second most terrifying experience of my life. I couldn't even... We could have...  _Naruto_ could have–

Don't panic. Freaking out is allowed, panic is not. Deep breaths. Inhale. Exhale. Now just keep doing that.

It's been years since I last had to do this.

It's a skill you never forget.

Just. Keep. Breathing.

Eventually, I feel more worn down than freaked out. Feel like I'll actually be able to get a little sleep tonight.

With a sigh, I push myself to my feet and walk over to the remainder Naruto's birthday cake. I grab a plate and cut off a slice, before I move towards the coffee table, open one of my notebooks to a blank page, and scribble down a quick note. I tear it out, fold it, walk towards the window, open it, put the cake and note down the windowsill, and close it back up.

I never thought I would be grateful for ninja paranoia. But without them keeping an eye on me, or rather, an eye on Naruto, things could've ended in ways I don't want to imagine.

The least I can do is offer thanks in return.

**_Thanks for the rescue._ **

* * *

The plate is on the coffee table. The cake is untouched.

I probably should've noticed this sooner, but in my defense, I'm still rattled from yesterday. I've purposely gone through my usual routine of waking up, making breakfast and lunch boxes, waking the brat, and eating breakfast with him. Aside from Naruto being clingy in a way I don't mind in the slightest, I made sure everything was blessedly normal.

Which means I didn't pay attention to what had happened to my offering until now.

As Naruto continues eating breakfast, I get off my chair and walk towards the coffee table. When I'm closer, I notice that my note is there as well, half placed underneath the plate. There's new scribbles peeking out from one of the folded edges. My offering might not have been eaten, but at least I got a reply.

I pick up the note and unfold it.

_I don't like sweet things._

I snort, inadvertently amused. He actually felt the need to break in just to tell me that.

Ninja.

"Hey, is that for me? Can I have cake for breakfast, please, please, pretty please?" Naruto begs when he notices what I'm doing.

"Finish your breakfast and you can have a bite," I call back distracted as I walk towards the cupboards, rummaging through them. I know it's here somewhere, now where did I put it?

Aha! I pull out a bag of fried beans. It's one of the only non-sweet snacks I have except for fruit. What can I say, I have a sweet tooth. So does Naruto for that matter, though I'm careful to monitor his sugar intake. Having the brat hyped up is an absolute nightmare.

I scribble down another note.

**_Does this meet your refined tastes?_ **

Folding the paper, I place both the snack and note out on the windowsill. Sure, he can break in whenever he wants, but I like to keep some boundaries. Insofar as it's possible to have boundaries when it comes to ninja. The fact that he's ANBU only makes it worse.

I should probably be more disturbed about the ease with which he broke in. And about being stalked, of course. I know I would be if he hadn't saved Naruto and me, but the fact is that he did save us. It makes it difficult to be upset about the invasion of privacy when I'm feeling so grateful.

"Nee-chan, what're you doing?"

I'm startled by how near Naruto's voice is. I thought he was still sitting at the table. Apparently not.

"Feeding stray cats," I return deadpan. Given that Naruto is a newly minted six year old, the sarcasm flies over his head.

"Really?" he returns with a look that means he's trying to figure out why I want to feed stray cats. I feel a smile grow. Cute brat.

"No." My reply makes him pout and cross his arms, offended at being made a fool.

"You're being mean!" he condemns.

"Why are you still surprised by this?" I counter as I turn towards the coffee table. I need to put the cake away. "And did you finish your breakf–"

The cake is gone. I give the brat a flat look.

"Naruto. Where's the cake?"

The brat lowers his head and shuffles his feet, radiating guilt. The way he glances towards the sink lets me know where the plate has ended up.

I sigh. Of course. Admittedly, it's impressive that he's managed to eat the thing so fast, as well as do so without drawing my attention. His mouth isn't even stained.

Even so.

"No cake for you tonight," I tell him firmly, making his eyes widen with horror.

"What! But–"

"No buts," I cut him off, because it's important to remain strong. I can't have the brat walk all over me now that I'm his guardian. "Now get moving, we're going to be late."

Naruto bites his lip and shuffles his feet some more, but this time it isn't because he's guilty.

It's because he's scared.

"Can't we stay home today?" he pleads in a painfully tentative way.

The urge to bundle him up in a blanket and stay home forever is almost impossible to resist. Yet I know from experience that if I give in to the urge today, I'll give in tomorrow as well. And the day after. And the day after that.

After I first arrived in Konoha, I couldn't bring myself to leave Daisuke's home for months. I can't afford to do that again. It's not only unhealthy, it sets a bad example for Naruto. The best way to deal with your fears is to face them. I intend for us to do just that.

Besides, it's irrational to think there will be another attack. While there are many people who dislike Naruto to various degrees because of his loudness, rudeness, the Fox, or any combination of those things, that doesn't mean they're going to hurt him. I know that the only reason it happened yesterday was because of the date and because those two idiots were drunk.

Also, we're being stalked by ANBU. While that should make me extremely uncomfortable, right now I can only feel grateful.

It means that Naruto is safe. So am I for that matter, which I won't deny is nice. It's Naruto's guaranteed safety that calms me down the most, though.

"You have school, so no," I say as I move towards the door. "Come on, I'll walk you." Because while the both of us might need to face our fears, that doesn't mean Naruto needs to walk the streets alone today. Or tomorrow. Or ever.

Yeah, I'm going to have to watch myself. It's deceptively easy to let fear dictate my life.

The brat stays put with a pleading puppy look I immediately avert my eyes away from. I need to remain strong.

"Won't Tori be mad if you're late?" he asks, switching tactics. I give him a look that tells him this one won't work either. Not just because of my determination to act like everything's normal either.

"Tori's going to open late today." She always does the day after the annual Get So Drunk We Can't Remember Our Own Names Let Alone What Happened That Night party. The monster hangover that follows doesn't really allow for anything else.

This is the first year I've missed it. While I don't regret that I celebrated Naruto's birthday instead, I do feel a little sad. That party is– was, I suppose, one of the only moments where I allowed myself to dwell on all I've lost.

Unfortunately, being a guardian means I have to be responsible. Even more unfortunately, it means I can't afford to get drunk today either. No matter how much last night makes me want a stiff drink or ten.

"Move it, brat," I order when he keeps standing in place. Naruto scowls as he realizes that he won't be able to change my mind.

"Okay, okay, I'm going," he mutters sullenly and drags his feet over.

He still looks scared.

When he reaches me, I drop down my knees and pull him into a hug. The way he instantly clutches back _almost_ manages to destroy my resolve. I pull back a little and caress his cheek.

"It's alright to be scared, Naruto. I'm a little scared too," I understate in a soft voice, because while I don't want to lie to him, it isn't a good idea to let him know just how frightened I am. It might be an irrational fear, but try explaining that to a child his age.

When he gives me a hesitant look, I smile reassuringly.

"However, it's not alright to give in to it," I continue firmly, because as his guardian, I need to teach him this. "So we're going to kick it's ass by acting like normal."

He still looks uncertain, but just a little less than before.

"Also, if you go to the Academy, you'll get strong enough to kick the ass of anyone who wants to attack you." If reassurance won't work, maybe bribery will.

It does, Naruto grins beautifully as his hesitance and fear disappears.

"Yeah, I'm gonna to be the strongest ever! And I'll protect you too, Mary-nee!"

I chuckle and ruffle his hair. Sweet brat.

"Then you better get to school. You won't get stronger otherwise." My words make Naruto gain a fiercely determined expression, before he jumps out of my embrace and races to get his sandals on.

"Come on, nee-chan, we're gonna be late!"

I laugh as I move to put my own shoes on. Nice to see last night has an unexpected benefit. Hopefully the brat will keep up his newfound determination. Getting him to go to school without whining would make for a pleasant change in routine. Especially when I'm going to be walking him to school forever. I'll work out a new schedule with Tori. She'll understand, and the changes needed are pretty minor.

Just because I'm not going to let fear rule my life doesn't mean that I can't do little things to make it easier to bear.

* * *

I'm feeling a lot better after unloading to my friends and having an otherwise blissfully normal day. The brat is feeling better as well, chattering like usual ever since I picked him up from school. From his detailed recounting, he was more hyper than usual, but otherwise he had a wonderfully normal day as well. I open the door.

The bag of beans is standing on the coffee table. It's unopened.

Seriously?

"–and Iruka-sensei is so mean, he said I wasn't trying, but I was! Reading is really hard and– Nee-chan, are you even listening?"

"Reading is hard," I parrot back as I take off my shoes and jacket. The brat is a huge chatterbox. Sometimes you can only listen with half an ear because there are other things demanding your attention as well.

Like the bastard's refusal to eat my offering again. What the hell is wrong with fried beans?

"...Okay. So I said he's stupid and mean, and he got really red and he yelled so loud, he said–"

I let out a vaguely interested noise as the brat chatters on and walk towards the coffee table. I pick up the note placed underneath the bag.

_I don't like fried things either._

I can't help the wry twist of my lips. So picky.

"What're you doing, nee-chan? Who's that from?" Naruto's suspicious tone makes me pay more attention his words. I open my mouth to answer, but realize that it isn't a good idea to tell him an ANBU is following us around.

The fact that I instantly realize this topic is off limits is a clear sign of how much I've gone native.

"No one," I settle on as a reply. Unfortunately, even the brat is bright enough to realize that's a load of crap.

"It can't be no one, there's kanji on that! Kanji don't appear from nowhere! Someone has to write them!" My, he even used real logic to argue. I'm so proud.

"Alright, it's none of your business. How about that?" I'm not lying, it really is none of his business. This is between me and the bastard who refuses to accept my gratitude.

"What! Nee-chan, that's not fair! You can't–"

"If you drop it, I'll make ramen for dinner."

Naruto shuts up. Too easy. Also, ramen is neither sweet nor fried. The bastard better accept the offering this time.

Wait a minute. Back up.

"You have trouble reading?" I demand as I finish processing his previous chatter. This is something he's never mentioned before, I would most definitely remember if he had. I'll deal with his rudeness to Iruka later, this is a lot more important.

Naruto turns _ashamed_. I've never seen that from him before. He lowers his gaze and crosses his arms.

"It's just really hard, okay? There are _so many_ characters."

Don't I know it.

"Well this won't do at all. Come on." There's no way I'm going to let this stand. If I can master those damn kanji, the brat can too. Victory will be ours no matter what.

I walk towards the bookcase, grab The Lion Lord, and sit down the couch. Naruto quickly joins me and plasters himself against my side with a curious look. I pull him across my lap and give his hair a quick ruffle. It's impossible to resist those soft locks when they're this close.

"So this is a book I wrote–"

"You write books?" the brat interrupts like I just told him that I frolic around naked during the full moon. I give him a deadpan look.

"Really? I write every day, how is this a surprise to you?" Seriously, it's not like I go out of my way to hide it.

...Except he just told me he has trouble reading. And he's ashamed about it. This explains why he's never asked about my writing.

"I didn't think you were writing _books_." He makes it sound like an insult.

"Fantasy literature, actually," I retort with a scowl, my professional pride rankled, but I quickly get us back on track. "Not the point. The point is, I'm going to read to you, and you're going to sit here, quietly, and follow along the characters. Give me your hand."

Naruto extends a hand. I cradle it inside my own, before I extend his index finger and put it down the first character.

Maybe this isn't the best way to teach him. While I'll be the first to admit that the vocabulary of my novels isn't particularly complex, it is aimed at an older audience. Still, as an author, it feels like I'm betraying myself if I don't teach him by using my own work. And I choose The Lion Lord because it's my oldest story, and thus, my least complex in terms of kanji. My writing has improved a lot since then if I do say so myself.

I clear my throat.

"Once upon a time, in a land far away, there lived a noble lion. He was the lord of all the sun touched–"

* * *

 

I place the bowl of ramen out on the windowsill.

**_Just eat the damn thing._ **

* * *

The bowl on my coffee table is empty. The picky bastard has accepted the offering at last.

_Not bad._

* * *

 

"Being watched by ninja. Really, where did we go wrong?"

"I blame the New Years Incident. She was never the same after that."

I roll my eyes. Such caring friends I have.

"Thanks guys, real supportive."

Rukia gives a cheerful smile, while Shiro sips his tea with too amused eyes. Admittedly, this is a lot better than the worry of the previous day. Not that the worry hadn't been welcome, but now I just want to put the entire awful thing behind me. Which my friends know.

Because they're assholes, they've decided to help by making fun of the fact that the brat and I are being stalked.

"Honestly though, a personal watch by the elite. You're moving up in the world," Rukia teases, the euphemism rolling off her tongue without thought.

The first rule about ANBU. Don't talk about ANBU.

"And of course it has nothing to do with the fact that I adopted Naruto," I retort in a voice that makes the dessert seem wet. Really, I should've realized long ago that we're being stalked. Like it or not, the Fox makes Naruto a person of interest to the village, no matter how young he is. Which means I've probably been stalked as well ever since the brat started hanging out with me, if only a little.

The good news is that I don't have to worry about being discovered as an illegal alien. If they haven't found out by now, they're never going to. Even with my official papers, this is truly astonishing. Konoha is a dictatorship of spies. I thought that the only reason I got away with living here undetected is because I'm an unimportant civilian who doesn't warrant any real attention.

Apparently, that isn't the case. There's nothing suspicious about me or my behavior to ninja, as evidenced by not being arrested for my past even after being stalked. To trained spies, I'm just another normal citizen.

I really have gone native.

"Was he hot?" Rukia sounds far too interested in this. Nice to see her priorities are skewed as ever.

"Seeing as it was dark, he only appeared for a about second, and he was covered up from head to toe, I honestly can't answer that." In fact, it's only because of the way he refers to himself in the notes that I even know our rescuer is male. Amazing how many different ways there are to refer to yourself in Nihongo.

Rukia waggles her brows in a ridiculous way. The similarities with Renji are undeniable at times like this.

"Mysterious. Now that's prime fantasy material. The innocent damsel saved by the dashing nin." Her words actually succeed in making Shiro let out a soft snort, and I can't help but laugh out loud myself.

"Because I'm such a fragile flower." Honestly, if it had been just me, I would've been far less worried. Sure, I'm not muscled, but I can be vicious when the situation calls for it.

"Excuse me, can I have a refill?"

The words make me look towards... Kagome? Yeah, that's her name.

Duty calls.

"Coming right up," I call back, and start making another cup of chai for her. She's not a regular, just another curious ninja. Business has noticeably improved since I adopted Naruto. People in Konoha are huge gossips in general, but ninja are the biggest of them all. Which means many of them are dropping by the Dancing Dragon to "subtly" question me about his adoption. Or just to listen to me talk about him to my friends and analyze my every move, because why wouldn't spies keep acting like spies even in their free time?

Rukia waggles her brows again, and chuckles as I roll my eyes. Ridiculous woman.

Having a hot and heavy tumble sounds like a wonderful idea, though. I could definitely use the release. Not that I haven't been having fun, I have talented hands. Still, it isn't the same as having a partner.

Of course, given that the brat now lives with me, arranging a booty call is going to be more complicated than before. But it shouldn't be impossible.

As for my stalker, he'll just have to deal with my shows, solo or otherwise. I'm not going to change the way I act just for his convenience.

* * *

The next morning, I almost miss that there's another note, placed relatively high on the bookcase. My curiosity is roused. I assumed that this would stop, but he's written again? What for?

I unfold it.

_No more food?_

Right. Because of course I'm expected to continue feeding my stalker.

I scribble down a reply and place it down the same spot he did. It's high enough that it's out of the brat's reach and sight, and it seems ridiculous to place it outside when that bastard is obviously going to break in anyway. Damn ninja.

**_It was a one time deal, motivated by exceptional circumstances._ **

* * *

"Oh no you don't," I snap as I notice just in time what the brat is trying to do, and yank the toothbrush out of his hand before he can execute his plan.

"Hey!" he returns, indignant.

"Naruto, you will not brush your teeth with chocolate. Ever." Honestly, this brat.

"But toothpaste is yucky!" he exclaims like it's a valid excuse.

"Too bad. Now give me the chocolate and brush your teeth. With toothpaste."

The brat stubbornly keeps hold of the chocolate bar. I narrow my eyes.

"Now _,"_ I order in a tone that tells him there will be consequences if he doesn't comply. With great reluctance, Naruto obeys.

This guardian thing is a lot of work.

* * *

_The miso was delicious._

**_Stop stealing my food._ **

* * *

"Can I have more?"

Naruto's question makes me shake my head. I should be used to this by now, and most of the time I am. Sometimes I can't help feeling incredulous all over again, though.

"Where do you keep putting it all?" I wonder.

"I'm just hungry!" the brat counters like it's the most normal thing in the word to still be hungry after what he's already devoured.

"A bottomless pit, an actual bottomless pit. The world is truly an unfathomable place." Seriously, the brat eats more than I do. Given that he's half my size and width, his stomach shouldn't be physically capable of that. This has got to be an effect from the Fox, it's the only thing that makes a lick of sense.

"Yeah, I'm unfathomable!" Naruto exclaims with a pleased grin. "What's unfathomable mean?" he continues without missing a beat. I chuckle as I refill his plate.

"It means you're a very special snowflake," I tease. "Who really should've turned into a snowball by now. How on earth are you still so scrawny?" I ask without expectation of an answer.

"I'm the most special _ever_ , dattebayo!" the brat crows, before he blinks with realization and gains an insulted frown. "Hey, I'm not scrawny!"

I give him a patronizing smile.

"You really are."

* * *

_The beef was a little dry._

**_Seriously? Bastard._ **

* * *

"Who's that for?" the brat asks as I place the meal down the coffee table.

"A stray cat," I answer truthfully. Naruto gives me a suspicious look from where he's seated at the table, trying to decide whether I'm being serious or not.

"You're making fun of me!" he decides. I grin. I wasn't making fun of him, I told him the truth. Or rather, I told him the truth in a metaphorical way.

If Naruto were older, I would've given him a straight answer. Right now, I simply can't trust the brat to keep quiet about this. It's nothing personal, six year olds and secrets just aren't compatible. Especially when the six year old in question is a chatterbox.

Which is why I told him the truth in a metaphorical way. There's nothing unusual about a child talking about a stray cat being fed.

"I promise that I'm not making fun of you," I say truthfully. The fact that I happen to find my practical solution amusing is irrelevant.

 As expected, saying it's a promise is enough to get Naruto to believe me. In return for his trust, I'm careful to never promise something I don't mean or can't deliver on. I won't betray his trust like that.

"It's really for a stray cat?" he asks, no longer disbelieving, just curious. I give a sage nod.

"It really is."

* * *

_I'm touched._

**_Damage control, nothing more._ **

* * *

"Mary-nee, I don't want to!" the brat whines like he believes he can actually win this. I scowl. This is a routine I can definitely do without. Why does he always make this so difficult? It's even worse now that he's living me, and that's something I hadn't thought possible.

"Naruto, get in the bath," I order with a look that tells him my patience is wearing thin.

"I washed this morning!"

True, he did.

"And then you went to the park and rolled through the mud." Which I have no problem with. I do, however, have a problem with him tracking dirt all over our home. "Get in the bath."

The brat still refuses to budge. I narrow my eyes and point at the tub.

"Now _._ "

With a scowl, Naruto finally gets into the bath. And spitefully splashes water all over me. Of course he does.

I really hope he's going to grow out of his allergy to bathing soon.

* * *

_Congratulations on winning the war._

I need a moment to realize what he's referring to, but when I do, I feel an amused smile grow.

**_It was a hard won victory. There was mud in places I literally hadn't thought possible._ **

* * *

"Nee-chan, it's boring!"

I let out an annoyed sigh. I love the brat, but there are times where I long for peace and quiet. Like when I'm trying to write. 

"Naruto, shut up and continue studying."

"But–"

"No buts, just do your homework. And do it quietly, I'm busy."

The only way to get Naruto work or play in relative silence is to be firm and unyielding. This is easy to accomplish when I want to write. Right now, the brat has no chance whatsoever of swaying my mind. By now, he knows it too.

With a scowl and a great amount of pointedly silent drama, Naruto obeys. Good.

Time to continue describing the beautiful ice castle.

* * *

_The structural integrity of that castle is lower than zero._

Oh hell no.

**_Read my drafts again and I will _ _hurt you._ **

This is a boundary I won't allow him to cross. He can stalk the brat and me all he wants, he can break in whenever he feels like, he can even steal my food, but he needs to keep his sticky paws _off my notebooks_. Those drafts are _mine_.

Am I overly territorial about my unfinished stories? Yes, yes I am.

I'm surprised to see that the note has moved when I return from dropping the brat off at school. I thought he wouldn't reply until tomorrow like usual.

I pick up the note.

_Cute. Like a kitten hissing at a lion._

I roll my eyes. Arrogant bastard.

**_Two notes in one day, I feel so special. And do you really want to test my creativity?_ **

Warning delivered, I settle down the couch and grab my notebook. I have time before I need to be at work, and I intend to fill it with writing.

I read what I wrote yesterday with fresh eyes. Is it the prose too purple? A little, but not too much. It just needs some minor adjustments.

I lift my pencil and start making those adjustments.

...And it doesn't matter that the castle isn't structurally sound. Of course it doesn't.

* * *

"Everything alright?"

Renji's question pulls me from my musings. It's a calm day, I can afford to daydream.

"Yeah, why do you ask?" I return.

"You're pretty distracted," he explains with the silent addition of, _is it because of Naruto?_

"I'm just daydreaming," I answer truthfully, silently telling him, _no, it isn't because of Naruto_. While it's impossible to avoid the topic entirely, both of us do our best to talk as little as possible about the brat. Renji is mostly fine as long as Naruto isn't here, but 'mostly' means that things are still easier when we don't breach the topic.

"What's gotten your head in the clouds this time?" he asks with a smile.

"Something private." My words make Renji give me a suspicious look, wracking his brain in order to recall if he's done something to piss me off. He knows me so well.

"I'm not your target, right?" he asks after he fails to come up with an incident, wanting to make sure that he's right in his assumption.

"Currently, it's a potential target, not a certain one," I neither confirm nor deny with a grin

"But I'm not it?" he insists. I chuckle and decide to take pity on him.

"You're not it," I confirm. Renji lets out a relieved sigh. Normally he then would've tried to figure out who I'm planning to prank, but that's when Riku, Akari and Yuuto enter. Renji gives me a look that means this conversation isn't over, before he goes over to take their order. I continue my previous musings.

The bastard is a ninja, so I have to be sneakier than usual. It also means that I can't retaliate as harshly as I wish I could.

Right now, I'm thinking that my best bet is to write down a request for Tori to make some sugared onigiri to take home with me. I'm pretty sure that the bastard stalks Naruto instead of me when we split up, but I'm not going to risk him overhearing in case I'm wrong. I'll write down the request during a busy period, and add a plea for her not to ask any questions. I'll also add a plea for her to keep quiet about this for at least an entire day. Tori, while pushy in other ways, respects it when people don't wish to talk. By Konoha's standards, she also respects people's desire of not wanting news they just shared to spread like wildfire. It's why I can ask her for an entire day of silence.

After taking the sugared onigiri home, I'll make something sweet or fried for dinner. Hopefully, the bastard will steal some of my other food to prove he's clever and take a bite from the onigiri without suspecting their contents.

This is my first plan of attack. Time to think of a second, third and fourth.

* * *

_Bejeweled eyes? Really?_

**_You asked for it._ **

* * *

"Mary-nee... you look really scary."

The brat's unusually subdued statement makes a vicious smile grow. I hope the bastard chokes, I really do.

My reaction makes Naruto shiver with fear. It's an amusing sight, but most of my mind is still on the sweet revenge I'm planning. I'm not sure I'll succeed, seeing as the bastard is a damn ninja. An elite ninja, even. I'm not worried about failing, though.

If this doesn't work, I'll just keep trying until something does.

* * *

His dinner is untouched. Part one of my plan was a success. The question now is whether or not the bastard ate some of my other food. More specifically, whether or not he ate the sugared onigiri.

Time to find out.

_That was one of the most disgusting things I have ever tasted. What did those poor onigiri ever do to you?_

It worked! He ate the onigiri!

Today is a beautiful day.

**_Revenge is sweet._ **

I'm half expecting the reply when I get back home. After all, a kitten managed to trick a lion. His pride must be so hurt.

_It won't work twice._

It is.

**_Sure, you keep telling yourself that._ **

* * *

"Why're you so mad at the notebook?" Naruto asks in a puzzled voice.

"Because damn technicalities," I snap without moving my glare away from the pages mocking me. They're mocking me because the castle isn't structurally sound.

"What's that mean?"

"It means I hate my brain. Why can't I just let this go?"

Flipping to a blank page, I write down a question and tear it out.

**_Is it the material or the shape of the castle that makes it structurally unsound?_ **

After placing the note on the bookcase, I decide to go play with Naruto. I won't be able to write until I have the answer to my question.

"What are you building?" I ask, and it's enough to get the brat to launch into a detailed explanation of the misshapen monument he's creating with his blocks.

I almost miss that the note has moved after I finish putting Naruto to bed and leave his room. I hadn't expected a reply before tomorrow.

I'm definitely not complaining.

_This must really be bothering you. I thought you wanted me to stop reading your drafts?_

Like he's going to listen. Damn ninja. Still, now that I've calmed down, I've discovered that I can live with him reading my drafts. As long as he doesn't let me know that he's reading them, that is. How native of me.

If he does let me know, I will hurt his pride again.

**_And you are clearly someone who respects personal boundaries like that. Besides, do you see an invitation to read them? No. I'm asking for clarification on a previous statement, nothing more. Now answer the damn question._ **

...Except he's not going to answer as long as I'm here. Fortunately, his previous reply has shown that I don't need to leave the apartment to get a reply. I just need to be in a different room so he feels comfortable enough to break in. Because ninja are insane like that.

Time for a bathroom visit.

It worked, the note has moved!

I quickly unfold it, impatient for his reply. He's right, this is bothering me. A lot.

_It's the material. Ice is too fragile. The lower levels would shatter beneath the weight of the upper ones. Not to mention that the foundation is too narrow to prevent the entire thing from toppling over. When building with ice, think less high cylinder and more low pyramid. Also, smaller windows. Much smaller windows._

Huh. This is actually very helpful. I'm not sure what I'll do with the information yet, but it's helpful. It's also surprisingly technical.

**_I have to admit, I didn't expect an answer like that. Ninja don't seem like the building type._ **

More like the demolition type. I've been to the Chuunin Exams, I know what I'm talking about.

No longer annoyed with the technicality but still unsure of what to do with it, I decide to relax with some reading. It's something I do far too little now, having a brat has cut down on my free time enormously. I have to make choices on how I spend the time I have left. Most of the time, writing wins out.

Later, after I return from another bathroom visit, the note has moved again. He's unusually chatty today.

_If you understand how something is build up, you understand how to bring it down._

I chuckle.

**_Much better._ **

* * *

Shiro hands over the kimono without looking at me. I accept in silence.

Most of the time, he can look at me without being hurt. Without being reminded of her.

Right now, he can't.

Some wounds never disappear. At best, they become scars you carry with you for the rest of your life.

The most anyone can do is learn to live with them.

* * *

_What did you decide to do with the castle?_

**_Mention that the ice is magical and defies the laws of physics._ **

_How cheap._

**_Fantasy literature. Realism is not required._ **

* * *

I lift my face from my pillow with a satisfied sigh. My own hands are as talented as ever. It's a shame I have to muffle my voice, but that's the price of living with a brat.

I still want a partner, though. My hands might be talented, but after a while, they just don't cut it. This used to be easy to fix, but it's harder than I thought it would be to arrange a booty call now that I'm a guardian.

But those are thoughts for tomorrow. Right now, I just want to bask in the afterglow.

* * *

_I've been wondering for a while now. For a civilian, you're surprisingly aware in some ways. You have to realize that keeping quiet doesn't make a difference._

**_That's not insulting at all. And it's for the brat's sake, not yours._ **

_Don't want him to catch you in the act?_

**_Don't want to be interrupted before the good part._ **

* * *

Another sigh escapes me as I continue doing the dishes.

"What's wrong?" Tori asks from where she's busy with the books. 

I will never be able to understand how she can actually _like_ the paperwork part of running a business.

"Nothing," I say, because it really is nothing. Kind of nothing.

"That didn't sound like nothing," she says in a way that encourages me to unload. Still.

"It is nothing, though. Nothing serious anyway," I say truthfully. I won't deny that it's annoying, but it's not a big deal.

Maybe if I tell myself that long enough, it'll even start to feel like it's true.

"But it's something?" Tori somehow manages to ask without being demanding, and it's enough to make me break.

"Alright, it's something. Having a brat makes it difficult to go out and pick up a booty call." Which shouldn't be a big deal, and yet, it is.

My words startle a laugh from Tori, bright and amused. The sound makes my own lips twist in a wry smile. I suppose this is a little funny. But no more than a little.

Mostly it's _very_ frustrating. Far more than it should be.

"I can take him for an evening if you want," Tori offers like the treasure she is. There's just one problem with that.

"The brat doesn't like sleeping anywhere but _his_ room, and I don't want to force the issue." Naruto is incredibly attached to his things in general, but especially to his room. It's understandable, he slept with dozens of others in the orphanage. Having his own room is a Big Deal for him. It's almost as big as getting pocket money.

"In that case, want me to babysit?" Tori amends her offer. I give her a look of extreme gratitude. With some careful planning, that would actually allow me to go out and find a booty call.

"Tori, you are a gift from heaven," I swear, meaning every word.

"You must really be frustrated," she teases with a smile.

"Like you wouldn't believe." It's gotten to the point that it's becoming ridiculous, yet I can't help myself. I want a hot and heavy tumble with someone. More specifically, I want a hot and heavy with a stranger. Means things aren't complicated, there's just pure and simple pleasure.

I like my sex with no strings attached.

* * *

_The fish could've used more salt._

**_Ungrateful bastard. I feed you free of charge, and you actually have the nerve to complain?_ **

_I'm offering payment in the form of advice. I'm nice like that._

**_You are a true friend._ **

* * *

Yes, right there, don't stop, _more_ , just a little more–

The door slams open.

"Mary-nee, wha–"

" _Naruto!_ Get the fuck out!"

* * *

After Hiroshi has left and I've gotten the brat back into bed, I pace around in an effort to get rid of the sheer frustration I'm still boiling with, I decide to take a shower in the hope that it'll calm me down.

It doesn't work. Even worse, when I leave the bathroom, there's a note, prominently placed on the counter so that I can't miss it.

He didn't.

_That was hilarious._

Oh that absolute bastard.

**_Shut up._ **

I can't believe the nerve of him. This is _not_ amusing _at all_.

Stomping towards the sink, I fill a glass of water while mentally cursing the bastard, the brat, my would-be booty call, and the entire world for good measure. The universe has it out for me. This is just one of many clear signs.

Another sign shows up when I turn around after finishing my drink. Because the note has moved. Somehow, in the time it took me to drain my glass, the bastard managed to break in, write something, and leave again, all without making a sound.

Fucking ninja.

_His timing was perfect._

Fucking ninja _bastard._

**_Shut up! How did you even manage to reply? I never left the room._ **

I throw the note down the coffee table, sit down the couch and glare at it. If he wants to keep acting like the bastard he is, I'm not going to make it easy for him.

Except my strategy doesn't take into account that ninja have magic. Without warning, the note teleports to the side. Of course it does. I realize a moment later that he must have used some kind of illusion to hide, but that doesn't lessen my aggravation. In fact, it makes everything worse.

How nice to know that the bastard might be stalking us from inside the apartment instead of from the outside.

I shouldn't want to know what he wrote. It's just going to aggravate me further.

I still want to know.

Cursing my damn curiosity, I unfold it.

_I'm proficient. And don't you think you should've mentioned that there's a child living with you?_

So now he's moved on from making fun of me to criticizing my life choices. Unbelievable.

**_Seriously? I didn't look away once. And it shouldn't have been relevant, I told the brat to stay out of my room tonight no matter what._ **

I had been _very clear_ about this. In fact, I made Naruto promise to stay out. I can't believe that the brat broke his word. It feels like the greatest of betrayals.

I don't have to wait long before the note seems to teleport again.

_Very proficient. And to be fair, you were being incredibly loud._

I scoff. Of course I was being loud.

**_If you're not being made to scream, you're not doing it right._ **

The note doesn't teleport again. I feel a surge of vicious satisfaction.

Can't argue with that, now can he?

* * *

The tomato disguised as a brat flees towards his room and slams the door shut. I smile with satisfaction.

There, that should prevent him from interrupting at the worst possible time ever again.

* * *

_How explicit._

**_Information is the best prevention._ **

_I don't think I've ever seen anyone blush like that._

**_The talk is a humiliating rite of passage everyone has to suffer through._ **

_That, and you made sure it was delivered in the most embarrassing way possible._

**_Damn straight._ **

* * *

Naruto pokes his food around with his chopsticks. When he dares to lift his gaze to meet mine, he immediately blushes and averts his eyes back down.

I smile, pleased. Sure, he's young to get a detailed technical explanation like that, but I don't regret it. It's not like he's traumatized. He's just feeling very awkward. I'll give him another less embarrassing talk when he's a few years older.

On another note, it's sweet that he interrupted because he thought I was being hurt. I made sure to stress to him that this was a valid reason for him to break his promise, but I don't think he believed me. Or rather, my words didn't have the same impact as my actions.

Looking back, I regret my harsh response to his interruption. Unfortunately, what's done is done. All anyone can do is learn from their mistakes. For me, that means watching myself around Naruto when my temper snaps. For Naruto, I'm pretty sure it means he's never going to break a promise again. He won't ever interrupt again either.

Which means I longer have to muffle my voice. Excellent.

The taste of pillow isn't the most pleasant thing to climax to.

* * *

_Nice show._

**_What can I say? I have talented hands._ **

_No longer worried about keeping quiet?_

**_Pretty sure the brat is never going to interrupt again, no matter how loud I get._ **

_You don't have any shame, do you?_

**_Says the stalker._ **

_Just following orders._

**_Everything for the sake of duty?_ **

_Exactly._

**_Pervert._ **

* * *

"–going to do the obstacle course again! It's really fun and I'm going to be better than the bastard this time, you'll see, I'll–"

I listen to the brat's chatter with half an ear, occasionally letting out a vaguely interested sound as we continue walking towards the Academy.

I wonder about the bastard's schedule. He seems to be the only one who's following Naruto and me around, and that does raise certain questions. When does he sleep? What about bathroom breaks? He eats dinner at my place, but what about other meals? Ninja might have magic, but they're still human. He has to leave sometimes, right? Does that mean another ninja stalks us when he doesn't? Or are there multiple stalkers and he's simply the only one who writes? Or do more of them write? The handwriting is always the same, but that doesn't mean much.

On the other hand, it seems extremely unlikely that the notes were written by more than one person. The bastard has a distinctive personality.

As we near the Academy, I put my musings away for now. I can ask him after I get home.

* * *

**_I have a curiosity. Are you the only one stalking us?_ **

_That's classified._

I roll my eyes. Ninja.

**_Let me rephrase. You're human, you need to sleep. Do you leave when you do, or do you actually sleep in whatever place you happen to be skulking?_ **

_Still classified._

**_Seriously?_ **

_Seriously._

Really, he's acting like this is a matter of village security instead of an idle curiosity.

**_What exactly do you think I'll do with this information?_ **

_Also classified._

Of course that's his reply. He must have an entire list of how I could abuse that information. Ninja are insane like that.

**_Just how paranoid can you get?_ **

_There's no such thing as being too cautious._

And here is more proof of their insanity.

**_Thank you for providing yet another piece of evidence that ninja are insane._ **

_Always happy to help explain common sense to a civilian._

The worst part is that I'm pretty sure a part of him means it. He actually believes that being paranoid is sane and reasonable behavior.

**_I'm not even going to dignify that with a response._ **

_You just did._

I roll my eyes.

**_Bastard._ **

There's no way that the notes are written by more than one person. I refuse to believe that there can be multiple bastards like him.

* * *

"How do you keep managing this?" I demand as we start walking home. Seeing as we aren't going to the park today, I had assumed that there wouldn't be a war.

I was wrong.

"We played ninja!" the pile of dirt disguised as a brat exclaims with so much sunshine even all that muck can't dampen it.

"And that means rolling through the mud?" I counter without real annoyance. Well, there's a little annoyance, but only because of the unexpected war that's now in my near future.

Mostly I'm just so damn happy for him. Naruto has a lot of difficulties making friends. Some of it has to do with the fact that he's loud and rude, but the greatest cause is the Fox. Or rather, the greatest cause is dumb parents.

I know that they're just worried. They don't like the idea of their children playing with someone who holds the equivalent of a maliciously sentient bomb inside of him. Which is understandable from a theoretical point of view.

I don't feel the slightest shred of compassion for their worry. Not when it's hurting my brat.

Unfortunately, there's not a lot I can do beyond offering Naruto comfort and advice when he's hurt by another rebuff when he tries to make friends. No matter how much I wish I could. Sure, I've had harsh words with some of the parents when waiting for the Academy to finish, but I can't force them to act differently. Nor can I force them to make their children play with Naruto.

However, Naruto is slowly getting the other children to accept him. He is now allowed to play with them during recess. It's a disgrace of the highest order that it's taken so long for them to _allow_ that, but children can be cruel.

Yet even with all that adversity, even though it would be so easy for him to give up, the brat continues to fight for acceptance. He's also winning that fight a little more every day.

He's amazing.

Unfortunately, he remains allergic to bathing as well. What fun this is going to be.

* * *

_I would enjoy another show._

**_Too bad, I don't perform on command._ **

_Never?_

**_There are some situations where I don't mind._ **

_I am intrigued._

**_Such a shame you have no chance in hell._ **

_Ouch. Am I that repulsive?_

**_I like to have visual contact with any potential lover. I'm picky like that._ **

* * *

"So, how is the guardian life treating you?" Shisui asks as I bring him and Itachi their tea.

"It's odd," I answer truthfully. "Life seems to pass more slowly and more fast at the same time. It also seems like the brat has become the center of my world." Which is normal, taking care of Naruto full time is the entire point of being his guardian. Still, it often feels like I'm no longer doing anything else besides that. I know it's irrational to feel that way, I still write, work, hang out with my friends, get harassed by the bastard, and a few other things to boot. Doesn't change the fact that it feels like the brat has taken over my life.

Most of the time, I'm definitely not complaining.

"Not having too much trouble? Naruto isn't exactly the easiest child to deal with," Shisui understates with a teasing grin. He hasn't seen Naruto often, but meeting the brat once is enough for anyone to realize that he's a lot to handle.

"Surprisingly, no. Mind you, it isn't always easy, but he listens to me a _lot_ better since I adopted him." Which is a true blessing. This entire thing would've crashed and burned by now if he didn't. I'm actually amazed at the lack of any real disasters. Aside from the Birthday Fiasco, of course.

However, while there haven't been any real disasters aside from the one, there are annoyances.

"I could definitely do without his allergy to bathing, though," I continue.

"You should ask Itachi for advice, he's great with children," Shisui says with a cheerful smile.

"I am not great with children," Itachi denies with his usual calm voice and placid expression. Shisui gives him a falsely disapproving frown.

"Of course you are, just look at how Sasuke acts around you," he argues.

"My little brother is the only child I spend a significant amount of time with. Making generalizations based on the behavior of one individual is incredibly foolish," Itachi helpfully informs Shisui. He's definitely not making fun of him, nope, not at all.

"Are you calling me a fool? Itachi, I'm hurt," Shisui returns with such a wounded look.

"My apologies for offending you," Itachi returns with a hint of what seems to be real sincerity. "I had forgotten how fragile your ego is." Emphasis on seems.

"See, that's not an apology. It's an insult," Shisui points out like he's doing Itachi a kindness by explaining this.

"How astute of you to notice," Itachi counters without missing a beat. I chuckle, amused as ever by their banter. These two are hilarious.

It's a shame they don't come by more often.

* * *

I slam a hand down my alarm as it goes off, and feel something wholly unexpected beneath my palm. It makes me open my eyes, but I still need a moment to register what my sense of touch is telling me is there. When I do realize what it is, I frown, confused.

There's a note on top of my alarm.

What?

Half convinced that I'm still dreaming, I rub my eyes and look again. It's still there. So, not a dream.

Why on earth has the bastard left a note inside my bedroom?

I unfold it to find out.

_I won't be writing for a while. Don't set aside dinner until you hear from me again._

I stare at the words, confusion turning to bewilderment. What the hell? Why? What happened? What's going on?

Is something wrong?

Groaning, I close my eyes. It's far too early for surprises like this.

I remain beneath my cozy blanket for a few moments longer, before I let out a deep sigh and force myself to get up.

I can think about this after I've had some coffee.

* * *

"Nee-chan, why're you glaring at the window?"

I'm not glaring at the window. I'm glaring out of it. Yes, I'm aware that the bastard might be stalking me from inside our home, but glaring out the window is more satisfying than glaring around the room. Makes it feel like I'm glaring at him instead of just pretending to.

"A stray cat is annoying me," I snap. That bastard has been harassing me for weeks, so why stop now?

"Oh. Is it the same one you give food?"

"Yes," I answer curtly, not in the mood to elaborate. I don't even know why I'm so annoyed by this, I should be pleased to have some peace and quiet. Instead, I can't let this go.

Is he ignoring me? Did something happen? Is this because of our last conversation? Seems extremely unlikely, there hadn't been anything out of the ordinary about it, but I don't have a better guess. Of course, I wouldn't need to guess if he would just write.

It's unbelievable that the bastard manages to be a bastard even when he's being silent. What an amazing talent to have.

Why won't he write?

* * *

"You're not giving the cat food?"

"No way in hell," I reply in an instant. It's not even because the note told me to. If that bastard wants to ignore me, he can kiss his free dinners goodbye.

"Why not?" Naruto asks as he continues helping me set the table.

"I'm mad at him," I explain.

"Why? What did he do?"

"He's annoying me." By refusing to write.

"How?"

"By being annoying." Seriously, why won't he write?

"But _how_ is he annoying?" the brat demands with an adorable frown. My evasiveness is starting to irritate him.

I should give him a straight answer. Or rather, give him a metaphorical answer.

"By annoying me," I say instead. I'm in a bad mood, and innocently winding the brat up makes me feel better.

"Mary-nee! You're being mean!" His irked offense makes me grin a little.

"Poor you," I tease, mood already starting to lighten. Naruto pouts with annoyance. I chuckle.

But seriously, why won't he write?

* * *

"Why the bad mood?"

"Why the hell do you think I'm in a bad mood?" I snap, annoyed at her prodding.

Rukia's raised brow makes me grimace. Alright, yes, that wasn't the reaction of someone in a good mood. Doesn't mean she has to push like this.

"It's nothing," I say curtly. I want her to drop this.

She doesn't.

"Has she been like this the entire day?" she asks Tori, more curious than worried.

"She's been like this since _yesterday_. And she won't say what's wrong!" Tori replies with a disapproving look at me. I give her an annoyed one in return. What, it's a crime to be in a bad mood now?

"Is it because of Naruto?" Rukia continues with an amused glance at me. How nice to see that she finds my suffering funny.

"I don't think so, this is a different kind of annoyed. More like the time she and Shiro had that fight and he refused to talk to her for a week," Tori replies.

"It's so nice to be talked about like I'm not here," I say in my most sarcastic voice while given the both of them a withering glare. Neither of them are affected in the slightest. Assholes.

"We wouldn't have to if you would tell us what's wrong," Rukia tells me oh so cheerfully. Why can't she leave this alone?

"Though luck, I'm not going to," I snap. It's not because of the first rule of ANBU, it's because _I don't want to talk about this_.

Tori lets out a sigh that tells me she's decided to respect my decision to keep quiet, because she's wonderful like that.

"Then you have to live with us talking about you like you aren't there." Rukia keeps acting like an asshole.

"In that case, I'll make things easier for everyone. I'm leaving." With that, I turn around and stomp towards the kitchen. Maybe I can at east lessen my aggravation with some furious cleaning.

"Wow, she's in a really awful mood. And she's been like this since yesterday?"

The door closes behind me before I can hear Tori's reply, thank God. I have zero desire to keep listening to them gossip about me.

Why the hell won't he write? Is he ignoring me? He has to be, he didn't even steal any food. Bastard.

I'm starting to get a little worried.

* * *

There's a note! About time. That bastard better have a good explanation for his behavior.

Except when I unfold it, the handwriting is different.

_Sorry, something came up and he had to leave. Don't worry, he'll be back soon. You two can continue flirting then._

You have got to be kidding me.

**_Because of course there's a replacement stalker, why am I even surprised? And we aren't flirting._ **

It's good to know that he isn't ignoring me, but how on earth did this guy get the impression that the bastard and I are flirting? That's the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard.

On another note, I'll be able to make sweet and fried dishes again for a while. Nice.

* * *

"–so I said he's stupid, and the bastard said he's not but that I am! He's so mean!"

I let out a vaguely interested noise as I continue preparing dinner. I might be going a little overboard, but I'm in a mood for something fried. It's been too long. Not that I've stopped making fried things, or sweet ones for that matter, but I've limited them to lunch items. It's nice to have the flavors as dinner fare again.

As for the replacement stalker, he's out of luck. Unless he has the nerve to start stealing my food as well, I'm not going to feed him.

"Nee-chan, are you even listening?"

"The bastard is mean," I parrot back. Saying that particular word out loud makes me automatically pay more attention to what the brat was chattering about. I feel an amused smile grow.

It's hilarious that Naruto has found a bastard of his own. I don't know the name of his bastard, and I'm not going to ask. Hearing the brat complain about someone while calling him that nickname is just too funny.

"...Okay. So then I–"

I continue cooking while listening to Naruto's detailed recounting of yet another argument with his bastard. As expected, it ends with the two of them getting into a fight during recess. It was, of course, broken up by Iruka and they both got yelled at. Ninja might be insane, but even they have enough common sense to not let six year olds fight each other.

They wait until they're seven year olds instead. Because that makes such a huge difference. I'm not looking forward to next year when the brat starts official sparring.

I'm so glad that Naruto heals at an abnormally fast rate. I'm assuming it's because of the Fox, but honestly, I don't care what the cause is.

Anything that helps him survive is something to be grateful for.

* * *

_Sure you're not._

**_I don't even know what he looks like._ **

* * *

"Are you still mad at the cat?" Naruto asks when we start setting the table. It isn't difficult to see how he's come to that conclusion.

"He's away right now, I'll start feeding him again after he gets back," I explain.

"Where did he go?" the brat asks, curious.

"I have no idea," I answer truthfully. Obviously he's on another mission, but that could mean a number of things. None of which I want to think about too deeply.

"Why don't you know?"

"Because he's a stray cat, and stray cats sometimes disappear to mysterious places. It's one of their special powers," I say with a sage nod. I'm getting rather good at talking in metaphors if I do say so myself.

"Cats have special powers?" Naruto demands with wide eyes, looking utterly adorable.

"They most certainly do," I confirm. What else do you call ninja magic? "And stray cats have the most special powers of them all." They are elite ninja, after all.

"That's so cool!"

Naruto's instant acceptance of my words makes me laugh and ruffle his hair.

My brat is the cutest brat of them all.

* * *

_He wears a mask._

**_Thank you for that illuminating description._ **

* * *

 

"Tori, Tori!" the brat yells as he runs towards her, before he holds up his latest masterpiece for her to admire. "Look!"

"How cute!" Tori is the only one who can say that and mean it.

"Frogs are awesome!" Naruto declares, his passion making him even louder than usual. I don't understand the brat's deep love the things, but it's cute to watch.

What isn't cute, is the deformed blob that's supposed to represent a frog. It is hilarious, though.

"That's a frog?" Renji mocks too maliciously, but his voice is soft enough that Naruto doesn't hear. I grin, so happy with his reaction. This is huge progress.

"Drawing isn't his strong suit," I counter just as softly. Renji doesn't smile, but there's amusement alongside the hatred and grief that Naruto's presence always triggers. Moments like these are what make me believe that Renji will one day be able to separate his feelings for the Fox from Naruto. I don't mind the wait. The fact that there's any progress at all is a true miracle.

It's amazing how hard Renji is trying to overcome his misplaced hatred. It's even more amazing that he's slowly succeeding.

* * *

_I don't know why I was surprised to learn that he likes you._

**_I don't know why I keep writing these things._ **

* * *

 "No," I declare the moment I see what the brat is carrying. Where did he even find that? There's no pond or any other body of water in this park.

"But nee-chan, look! He's so cute," Naruto actually coos as he gazes down with pure adoration at the frog held in his hands. I'm surprised that the animal seems content to be held by him. It's not even trying to escape.

"Very cute. Now come on, we'll put it back where it belongs," I order firmly. It makes the brat aim his most powerful puppy eyes at me. I avert my eyes to the sky in order to escape their lethality and start preparing for the temper tantrum this situation is going to inevitably lead to.

"But Mary-nee–"

"No," I cut him off before he can gain momentum. It's harsh, but I won't be swayed about this. The sooner he understands that, the better. "Let's go."

"Please?"

I'm almost grateful that he's holding the frog. It means he doesn't have a hand free to tug at my pants and trick me into getting sucker punched by those eyes.

"No," I repeat as unyielding as before.

"Please, please, pretty please? I  _promise_ I'll take good care of him," he begs, and it's even worse than if he'd whined. He's going to be so mad at me. Even worse, he's going to be  _hurt_. It's going to destroy my heart.

I'm still not going to give in. I told him no pets, and I meant it.

"No. I already have a brat and a cat, I'm not adding a frog as well."

* * *

_You have a near pathological need to have the final word._

**_There's an actual file on me and all my habits. How comforting._ **

* * *

"–not going to kiss you! You're disgusting–"

"No he's not!" Naruto interrupts like I just insulted him instead of a fictional character. Should've guessed he'd react like that.

"Do you want me to stop reading?" I counter in a normal voice instead of the story one I was using before.

"No!" he answers as expected.

"Then shut up and read along. I promise that she won't think he's disgusting later on," I add, because otherwise the brat won't obey. Not when his beloved frogs are being insulted.

Naruto pouts petulantly, but he keeps quiet, mollified by my words. Good.

I continue reading The Princess And The Frog to him while he follows along the characters.

* * *

_Don't worry, if you were a threat, you would've been taken care off a long time ago._

**_You're amazingly awful at being reassuring. I hope you're aware of this._ **

* * *

"I passed, I passed, I passed!"

"I knew you could do it." I'm damn proud of him, I really am.

"I'm _awesome_ , dattebayo!" Naruto exclaims at an even louder volume than before, literally jumping around with giddiness and pride. The pride is completely deserved.

"That you are," I confirm without hesitation. "You're a little genius." Not in the convenient sense of the word, but a little genius nonetheless. He worked so hard for this.

"Take that, you stupid test!" Naruto exclaims with vicious satisfaction.

"Damn straight," I agree with a sharp nod. The fact that he just barely passed doesn't matter, he passed.

Naruto's ability to read has improved by leaps and bounds, but he's never going to be booksmart. Doesn't mean he's stupid, and it definitely doesn't mean that he has to fail his written tests. He just has to work harder than most to pass them. It also means that when he does pass them, his victory is all the sweeter for it.

Tonight, we celebrate that victory by going out for ramen. The brat has more than earned it.

* * *

_Of course I am. And good news! He'll be back tomorrow. The flirting can resume!_

**_Jump off a cliff._ **

* * *

I'm not ashamed to admit that I make a beeline for the note the next morning. Nothing against the replacement stalker, but I've missed the bastard. His absence has made me realize that he's become a friend.

In hindsight, this shouldn't have come as a surprise. As evidenced by my other friends, I have a type. Namely, I'm fond of assholes.

What can I say, I have odd tastes.

I quickly unfold the note.

_Did I miss any shows?_

I grin. It's so nice to have him back.

I know just how to welcome him.

**_Your replacement decided to take over your correspondence._ **

The speed of his reply is a clear indicator that my welcome has the desired effect.

_He did what?_

His words are an even better one. I chuckle. I suspected that he hadn't expected that to happen, and also suspected that he wouldn't be pleased about it. It's good to have my suspicion confirmed. Means I can tease him about this for quite a while.

**_My thoughts exactly._ **

* * *

"Let me get this straight," Tori says over the sound of Renji's laughter. She's stunned by the explanation their intervention has finally managed to wrangle out of me.

Apparently, I've been acting weird. While they at first assumed that it was because of adopting Naruto, they eventually came to the conclusion that something else must be going on as well. The result is this intervention.

"You're corresponding with an A– with someone from the elite. Every day." My, Tori almost said the A-word. There's no better indication of how dazed she is than that.

"Oh, she's not just _corresponding_."

It's been a long time since I've seen Rukia's eyes glitter with such unholy glee. I truly fear for what she's about to say next.

"She's flirting."

I'm right to do so.

Renji's laughter grows louder, agreeing with his sister wholeheartedly, while Shiro closes his eyes with pained realization. I'm glad it's not the pain of remembrance, but I'm far less pleased with the realization part. There's nothing to have a realization about.

"Of course she is," he says like he should've seen this coming. I roll my eyes. They're all being ridiculous.

"I am not. How did you even get that impression?" I direct towards Rukia. I'm honestly curious how she managed to come to that ludicrous conclusion with the explanation I gave. Then again, she has a gift for seeing things that aren't there.

Rukia aims a much too satisfied grin my way.

"Please, it's obvious."

"Really." My voice makes the dessert seem wet.

Tori's jaw drops.

"You are flirting!" she exclaims like the sky just turned green and she can't believe what her eyes are telling her.

I throw up my hands with exasperation.

"Why do people keep saying that?" Seriously, first the replacement stalker, and now my friends? Who's next, the regulars at the Dancing Dragon?

Renji's laughter turns hysterical and he leans on Tori's shoulder for support. Tori continues to gape. Rukia keeps looking like the cat that ate the canary.

Meanwhile, Shiro raises an entire brow. It's one of the most exasperated looks I've ever received from him.

"Mari. Subtle you are not."

"Oh shut up," I say while rolling my eyes. Assholes, each and every one of them.

We aren't flirting.

* * *

* * *

"Report."

"Subject continues to display no ulterior motives, showing only genuine affection for the jinchuuriki. No direct intervention is needed at this time."

"And she and–"

"Crow's input is irrelevant to the mission."


	5. Leads

The blindfold is new.

I tilt my head, wondering just what it is he has in mind. My hands come up to explore the heavy fabric, but his own cover mine and push them back down the sheets.

"No peeking," he orders. I grin.

"Wasn't planning on it,” I say, and it’s enough to get his hands to release mine. “I'm curious though, what exactly are you up to? Should I be worried?"

"Don't you trust me?"

"Seeing as you're a very proficient ninja, I think it’s entirely reasonable to be suspicious of your motives,” I point out the obvious.

"I might be, but you are a helpless civilian,” the bastard says like he thinks this is just the most adorable thing ever.

"All the more reason,” I retort. He chuckles.

I shift my weight from where I’m kneeling on the bed, straining my ears to hear what he’s doing. Of course, I don’t hear anything except for what he wants me to. In this case, he wants me to hear a sound of warning. I halt my movements and raise an incredulous brow, uncaring of the fact that the blindfold makes the gesture useless

"I'm not even allowed to move? And you wonder why I'm suspicious.”

"Don't worry, you'll enjoy this."

My curiosity rises further. So does my anticipation.

"Oh really? Is it another magic trick?"

"Something like that,” he replies unhelpfully. I let out a hum in return, before I bring up a hand and slide it down between my breasts. I wonder just how far I can push him this time.

"No touching yourself either." The command is stern. I grin and halt my movements, willing to go along. For now.

"I thought you liked me touching myself,” I tease.

"I like it very much. Not this time, though."

"Spoilsport."

The bed dips and I feel the warmth of him at my back. He’s not touching me, not yet, but his presence so near is enough to make me shiver.

"So sensitive. I haven't even started yet." His voice is right next to my ear, uncommonly clear. The loss of my sight is heightening my other senses.

I open my mouth, another quip on the tip of my tongue– I choke.

Warm lips touching my neck, softly caressing, a hint of tongue.

"Wha–" My voice turns in a strangled moan as his teeth nip sharply.

"Quiet. Just relax,” he says with lips ghosting over my throat. His mask is off?

 _His mask is off_.

My hands come up without the conscious decision to do so. The urge to touch is impossible to resist.

Except before I can touch him, my wrists are captured by _bare hands_.

Oh that brilliant bastard.

"You are a genius,” I swear, meaning every word. Why on earth haven’t we used a blindfold before?

Another chuckle, a playful nip.

"Thank you. Now shut up."

I shut up.

He shifts his hold on my wrists until they’re held captive in one hand. Feeling his skin on mine makes the movement more intense than any other he’s ever made. His other hand comes up to caress my breast, his skin warm and _bare_. I moan.

His lips glide upwards, over my throat and jaw, before they delicately tease my ear.

"Good girl.” The sensation of his breath is enough to make goosebumps erupt all over. I lean back my head on his _bare_ shoulder. The heat of his skin is right besides me, utterly irresistible. I turn my head and shiver as my nose strokes across his skin, the sensation more delicious than I could’ve ever imagined. His own breath hitches.

Feeling mischievous, I nip at his jaw. The taste of him is heady in a way I hadn't known was possible.

My reactions makes the caress of his hand turn sharp, the bite of nails heightening the pleasure even further. I gasp again and pull at my wrists to free them. I _need_ to touch him.

Calloused fingers slide down and the barest of shocks hit my nerves, making my stomach tighten in the most delicious of ways. I love his magic tricks, I really do.

His caress goes lower, _lower_ , halting right where I want him to.

If he dares to stop right now, I will hurt him. So much.

He doesn’t stop.

 _Bare_ _skin_ , softly stroking, slowly adding more pressure, more speed. Another harsh spark makes me jolt, every sensation so much more intense, so perfect, everything tightening, tensing, _yes_ , more, _almost there._

He pulls his hand away. A frustrated shout escapes me, fruitlessly struggling to get my hands free. When that doesn’t work, I push my body backwards, the desire to feel him overriding all else.

A warm hand stills my hips, the heat behind me pulling away before I can make contact.

He’s a complete and utter _bastard._

I push my upper body backwards even further. This time he lets me.

Soft skin, hard muscles, glorious warmth. I shudder, lay my head down his shoulder as I feel him push even closer, his desire hot against my lower back, no more space between us. Turning my head, I lick his skin, taste salt and heat, and I can _feel_ him shiver against my back.

He’s a complete and utter genius.

"Let go of my hands," I somehow manage get out, barely able to speak through the haze of desire.

He nips at my shoulder almost too harshly. Almost.

"No."

Another frustrated cry, another useless struggle to get free.

"Bastard, let g–" A broken shriek, bare fingers right where I need them, nerve alight, harsh, electrifying, ruthlessly undoing me.

Fucking ninja cheating _bastard._

Don't stop _._

Sparks growing more intense, shocks racing through me, more, I need _more._

Shifting my hips, pushing closer, arm skin moving with me, no space between, mind gone, only able to _feel_ , yes, yes, yes, don't stop, _more_ , right there, oh God, _God!_

Stars explode.

Wrists released, being laid on my back, dazed and disorientated.

Hands opening my legs, letting him, thoughts scattered, completely undone.

A snapping of hips, shrieking, clutching blindly at his bare skin, stop, too sensitive, _keep going._

Movements so deep, so full, feeling every inch, bare skin covering every part of me, his lips on my shoulder _._

Yanking at his hair, nails digging into hard muscle, scraping down, a painful stinging on my hips in return, lost to sensation, yes, yes,  _yes._

Rhythm growing faster, tension building back up, feeling him tense beneath my fingers, so perfect, more, _just a little more._

A shift and he’s hitting _that_ spot, oh, _oh!_

 _Yes_.

Feeling him shiver violently, spilling inside.

Silence, gasping breaths, his body covering mine, deliciously warm and heavy.

Mind slowly becoming a little more coherent.

“Wow.”

I realize that I’ve rasped that out loud when I hear a soft, near shaken laugh in return.

"Very wow,” he agrees.

I feel him start to get up and immediately tighten my grip on his hair, sudden urgency clearing some of my blissful haze. The protesting sound he lets out is completely ignored.

"And just where do you think you're going?" I manage to say in a husky voice ruined by screams.

There’s absolutely no way I’m going to let him leave already. He’s _naked_.

I have so many ideas where to take this next.


	6. Changing Feelings (Grow Unnoticed)

"It's Mary, not Marisan, _Mary_."

" **Mari** - **s** – **Mari. Calm down, please."**

"Jesus fucking Christ, people are jumping on the roofs!"

" **Mari, please, just... just come along. Please."**

Hands grasping my arms, looking at a pleading and tired expression.

"Let go of me! Just leave me alon– what the... Those... those are heads. But this isn’t..."

Dropping to my knees, bewildered and so scared.

Where am I?

Tears rising, sobs escaping.

I just want to go home.

Gentle arms embrace me.

**"It's going to be alright, I'll take care of you. You're going to be be alright. Everything is going to be alright."**

* * *

* * *

 

"–and then Ino said she wanted to know where I get my clothes, but I didn’t tell her because she was being mean, and she yelled really high and hit me! She's so mean!"

"And of course it didn’t have anything to do with you being rude,” I retort in a voice that makes the desert seem wet. When talking to the brat, you sometimes have to exaggerate to make sure he gets the spirit of the message and not just the literal content.

"I wasn't being rude!" Naruto denies like he actually believes it.

"What exactly did you say to her?" I counter with a raised brow. Naruto crosses his arms and keeps quiet with a mulish expression, knowing I’m right but unwilling to admit it. I give a satisfied nod.

"That's what I thought." Honestly, the brat needs to learn some manners. I do my best to teach him, I really do, but by now I’m convinced that being loud and rude is wired into his genes. Admittedly, I’m not the politest of people either. Compared to the brat however, I’m the very picture of manners.

"But she was being mean!" Naruto exclaims like it’s a valid excuse. It could be valid in different circumstances, but it definitely isn’t in the ones he just described.

"When people ignore you, they’re not always being mean,” I point out for the millionth time. “Sometimes they just don't feel like paying attention to you. You forcing them to anyway, that's being mean."

Naruto pouts with annoyance, stubbornly refusing to submit to reason.

"Besides, if she's so mean, why did you decide to talk to her in the first place?" I ask. It’s uncharacteristic behavior, usually the brat just yells at people, he doesn’t attempt to hold polite conversation. Emphasis on attempt.

Naruto _blushes_.

No. Could it be?

I wait for his answer with bated breath.

The brat, still blushing adorably, brings up a hand. Apparently to rub the back of his head, but the movement falters halfway through, his arm falling back down instead. He lowers his gaze and tucks in his chin.

"Sakura-chan likes her."

I burst out laughing. Naruto's head snaps up with a furious glare and it just makes me laugh harder, can’t contain it. I see him open his mouth and quickly use a hand to cover it, still cackling like mad. If he says one more word, I’m going to drop to the floor.

After a few more moments of uncontrollable laughter in which the brat starts slobbering all over my hand, I close my eyes and take deep breaths, forcing myself to calm down. When I reopen my eyes, the sight of the still furiously glaring brat is almost enough to make burst out laughing again. I bite my cheek to contain it and take another calming breath.

"Well." It takes an enormous amount of effort to keep my voice steady. "If _Sakura-chan_ likes her, you better make sure Ino likes you as well. If you don't, _Sakura-chan_ will never like you either."

Naruto has a crush.

Today is a beautiful day.

* * *

 

**_The brat has a crush!_ **

_The civilian has noticed the obvious!_

**_Nothing you say can ruin this for me._**

* * *

 

"No.”

"Please? For me?"

"No."

"Pretty please?"

Naruto actually manages to turn up the puppy power even more. I decide to keep quiet a little longer, enjoying the hilarious picture of the brat attempting to use his wiles on the bastion of willpower that is Shiro.

"No."

They aren’t working. Yet.

A chuckle escapes Rukia’s control. Her grin lets me know that the only reason she’s containing her laughter is because of how much she’s enjoying the show as well.

"Pleeease? I _promise_ I’ll pay for it. You can have _all_ my pocket money for an entire _year_ ," the brat delivers with cuteness set to lethal. He means it, he’ll pay Shiro for the rest of his life if that’s what it takes. Even without being the intended target, my heart is a puddle of goo. I would’ve given in a long time ago.

Shiro is made of sterner stuff than me.

"No,” he repeats, doing an excellent job of pretending to remain unmoved. But while he’s not about to give in, not yet, he’s starting to waver. Any human would be when faced with devastating cuteness like this.

Naruto is utterly oblivious to this fact. He’s no longer quite so confident that he’ll be able to sway Shiro. Doesn’t mean he’ll give up, not with what’s at stake. The brat will harass Shiro until his dying breath in order to get what he wants.

I decide to be kind and save my friend from that fate.

"Her eyes are even more brilliant than Tori's.” My blatant manipulation earns me a dirty look. I somehow manage to keep a grin from breaking through. "I hadn't though such flawless green could exist.”

Shiro’s look grows dirtier. Rukia’s shoulder tremble faintly as she fights to contain her laughter.

Naruto watches our exchange with bated breath. The brat is smart enough to keep quiet, he knows interfering will only hurt his chances of getting what he wants.

"Not to mention her hair is the exact shade of cherry blossoms in bloom." There we go, Shiro makes a pained grimace of defeat. Even in this world of distinctive coloring, pink like that is striking.

I’m pretty sure that Sakura is an important character. I don’t recall much of the pictures my brother showed me, but again, pink like that is striking.

I mostly manage ignore this fact and all the implications it holds. Right now, she’s just a little girl. A little girl who Naruto has a crush on, which is the most important fact of all.

It’s how we ended up in this beautiful situation.

"...Fine,” Shiro gives in reluctantly, before he looks down at Naruto with slightly narrowed eyes. A fierce warning. “ _One_ kimono, her parents need to pay, and I won’t give her a discount.”

Naruto whoops with joy and attacks Shiro's legs with a hug.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you!" he blares like a siren of sunshine.

Shiro looks at me like I’m responsible for every awful thing to ever happen to him. It’s enough to make Rukia lose the fight against her laughter, and I can no longer stop my grin from breaking through either. Not that I want to.

Too easy.

* * *

 

_A courting gift already? He moves fast._

**_He has the courage to go after what he wants._ **

_And what’s that supposed to mean?_

**_It means I’m damn proud of him. What else._ **

* * *

"She's so pretty,” the brat actually whispers. I grin down at him.

"Of course. With Shiro dressing her, how can she be anything else?"

Naruto doesn’t even look up, just kept making moon eyes at the little girl smiling with delight as Shiro continues poking and prodding at the fabric pulled tight around her.  

Kizashi, on the other hand, shoots Naruto an overprotective glare. I give a warning glare back.

Sakura’s father is one of the dumb parents, and while his attitude has improved greatly, it’s still not what it should be. In fact, his progress has taken a turn for the worse ever since Naruto developed a crush on his daughter. Understandable from a theoretical point of view even without adding in the Fox, but there’s no way in hell I’m going to let him ruin this moment.

My warning makes him scowl but he stays quiet. Good.

Meanwhile, Ino is practically vibrating in place, barely able to keep still enough to let Rukia work on her own kimono. She's also keeping up a steady stream of chatter that equally compliments how pretty Sakura looks and talks of how pretty Ino herself looks.

Inoichi, one of the smart parents, is gazing at her without even attempting to hide that she’s the most precious thing in his world. It was he who beautifully manipulated Shiro into not only making a kimono for his daughter as well, but onto finishing both before the new year celebrations. Even I couldn’t achieve that.

Inoichi is so whipped. I of course am not.

If I keep telling myself that often enough I might even start to believe it.

* * *

 

Smiling, I spin on my heel while admiring the picture presented in the mirror. I once believed that a kimono would be restricting to wear, but the outfit lets you move in ways you’d never expect from their appearance. Though that could just be a Konoha thing, all clothing here is easy to move in.

A kimono also offers a very nice view, if I do say so myself. It’s one I don’t see often, either. Mostly because of Shiro, but also because the outfit just isn’t that comfortable to wear. Easy to move in, yes, comfortable, no. Not to mention the time it takes to put it on. Or to get out of it.

I will never understand how she could wear these all the time. Well, kind of these. Unlike hers, mine are always an unorthodox cut, never a traditional one.

Given that I don’t often wear one, when I do, I fully appreciate what the outfit does for my figure. Especially in combination with the rest of the work I put in. I’m not stunning and never will be, but I can pull of a damn fine pretty when I want to.

I’m a little startled to see a note and pen materialize on the dresser, but mostly I’m amused as I realize that the bastard must’ve gotten quite the eyeful. So did any passing ninja for that matter. I was so excited to put this on that I forgot to close the curtains.

The bastard could be stalking us from inside the apartment of course, no matter that the things he says imply that he’s stalking us from the outside. It’s just easier to imagine him skulking on a nearby roof instead of in what seems to be an empty room except for me.

_Nice kimono._

I grin and look out the window at where I imagine he’s skulking, before I spin around again for his benefit.

**_Isn't it? You have to admit, it does amazing things to my figure._ **

_That it does._

I chuckle.

**_Flatterer._ **

_I'm curious, you have so many of them but this is the first time I've seen you wear one. Any particular reason for that?_

As a matter of fact, there is.

It’s not one I will ever explain in detail. Not unless I get arrested and interrogated in ways I never want to think about, but it seems extremely unlikely for that to still happen. I was allowed to adopt Naruto. When factoring in ninja paranoia, the position as his guardian does imply a certain amount of trust, elite stalker or not. Or rather, it implies a certain amount of confidence that there’s nothing unusual about me.

I won’t deny that I’m reassured by this. Probably too much. Still, given that there isn’t anything I can change about this, it’s better to feel more safe than I am instead of letting fear rule my life.

As for his question, I can give him the basics. The odds of him not having figured those out by now are lower than zero.

**_Shiro keeps making me new ones but hates seeing me wear them. I respect that. Still, the new year celebrations are one of the few occasions worth it to dress up for. How about you? Any plans?_ **

Or is he just going to keep stalking us? I hope not, that would just be sad.

_Not really._

My hope was in vain.

**_That's just sad._ **

_Sad enough to get some of that osechi?_

Like he doesn’t know I’ve already prepared a box for him. One that doesn’t contain any sweet or fried things.

**_We'll see._ **

With that, I leave my room to go check up on the brat. He was adamant about dressing himself, but I’m pretty sure he’s changed his mind by now. Konoha’s formal wear isn’t easy to put on for anyone, let alone a child.

I’m can’t wait to see the result. Naruto is going to look adorable.

* * *

 

“Are you alright?” The question slips out before I can help it. It’s a stupid question, one that doesn’t need to be asked.

He’s not alright.

Renji’s gaze flickers towards me, but it’s immediately drawn back to Naruto as an especially flashy move makes the brat halts his stream of chatter to Shiro and Tori with a loud gasp. Naruto is adorably bedazzled by the show. I don’t blame him, seeing ninja dance with fire is literal magic. Normally I would be right there with him in being awed.

Right now I’m a lot more worried about Renji. We all are.

Rukia is standing close on her brother’s other side, her arm linked through his in an embrace all the more fierce for how very gentle it is.

I hadn’t expected them to show up. They said they wouldn’t. Unlike the rest of us, they have family to celebrate with. While they normally do join us for a short while, we all accepted that Naruto’s presence would prevent that this year.

I’m touched that they still came but I hope they won’t stay for long. Renji shouldn’t be hurt. I know that’s impossible, even without Naruto his scars will sometimes bleed. But they shouldn’t right now.

Not on a day like this.

"...Yeah,” Renji lies. “Yeah, I just..." He falls silent, keeps looking at Naruto with so much grief and pain. Scarred by a loss he’ll never be able to let go off. Not completely.

I don’t push. Neither does Rukia.

"Haru would’ve been his age." Renji’s voice is so soft I barely hear him. I step closer and gently link our arms together as well. Rukia lays her head on his shoulder, her embrace becoming even more gentle.

Renji doesn’t make a move to embrace us in return. He doesn’t pull away either.

Sometimes the only thing you can do is be there.

Sometimes it’s enough.

* * *

 

Naruto halfheartedly protests that he isn’t tired yet as I help him get ready for bed. I’m not surprised in the slightest that he falls asleep the instant I finish tucking him in. He might be a hyperactive bundle of energy, but he’s also a brat and it’s way past his usual bedtime.

He’s my brat.

I leave his room with a smile and a yawn. I’m pretty tired myself. Given how long I’ve been on my feet, that isn’t surprising.

When I see the empty box and the note besides it, my smile grows.

_Thank you for the osechi._

I chuckle. So he can be polite. When the circumstances are exceptional, at least.

**_Happy New Year._ **

_Happy New Year._

His reply comes with the addition of a small good luck charm, the kind sold a dime a dozen at every festival booth. It’s both touching and surprising. I suppose he’s a lot more affected by the holiday than I thought he was.

I hang the charm next to my bedroom window, close the curtains, and start the long process of undressing. I do it all with a smile, this day doesn’t allow for anything else.

It wasn’t perfect, no. But it was still wonderful. A very nice ending to a very good year.

Here's to hoping the next will be even better.

* * *

 

I shoot upright with wide eyes.

What the hell was that?

I drop back down my pillow with a groan, feeling hot and bothered and completely exasperated with myself. I let out a deep sigh. So. That happened. My mind is truly a mysterious place.

Apparently visual contact isn’t needed after all.

I almost slide down my hands to continue where the dream left off, but when I think of who I somehow managed to dream of...

For the first time, I’m uncomfortable with the knowledge that he’d know what I’d be doing.

* * *

 

_That must've been some dream._

I’m not even going to dignify that with a response. In fact, I’m not going to talk to him at all. Dinner, sure, but no talking.

I don’t know what he looks like, not one single detail. I don’t even have a _voice_. Why on earth did my brain decide to dream about him? And dream about him like that of all things? How the hell did it even manage to do so?

I’m overreacting. I know I am. It was a one time deal. Of course it was.

* * *

 

_Are you ignoring me?_

Not going to answer. I just... I need some time to make sense of this. And I need to stop dreaming about him.

Except after I leave the bathroom, the note has moved. Should’ve known his silence from yesterday was too good to last.

_Seeing as I didn't do anything out of the ordinary, this is caused by something on your end._

I scowl. And of course it’s too much to hope for him to not act like the bastard he is. He probably thinks a whole day of not being one is an amazing concession.

**_Is it too much to ask for some peace and quiet?_ **

What part of me not talking to him doesn’t make it clear that I don’t want to talk to him? This isn’t like when he fell silent, the bastard is stalking us. He knows nothing is wrong. I just don’t feel like talking to him.

Not until I can get my brain to behave again.

I start making breakfast and don’t check to see if the note has moved.

Naturally, the bastard makes it materialize in front of me instead. He oh so helpfully adds a pen.

Most of me wants to ignore it, wants to just focus on making breakfast and not think about the confusing mess that is this entire situation.

I curse the part of me that makes me unfold it.

_Interesting._

Oh damn it all to hell, he knows.

My reply is motivated by what I know is an irrational hope for him to prove me wrong.

**_Interesting, what?_ **

I almost manage to resist the urge to make everything worse by reading his answer. Almost.

_You dreamed about me. Twice now._

I have to close my eyes. That bastard is never going to let me live this down. Right now, the prospect is enough to make me want to either despair, or start plotting vicious retaliation for when he inevitably acts like the bastard he is.

I take my frustration out on the paper.

**_I. Don't. Know. What. You. Look. Like._ **

_Or even what I sound like. And still I inspire dreams like that. Sometimes I even manage to impress myself._

Vicious retaliation it is.

**_Shut up._ **

I crumple up the paper and throw it down the trash, ending the conversation. I don’t have the slightest hope of him obeying of course, but that just means I have to start thinking of a first plan of attack. This time it won’t be as innocent as tricking him with sugared onigiri, because I _won’t_ let the bastard be a bastard about this. This entire mess is confusing enough already.

It’s so much better to focus on future revenge instead of those stupid dreams.

* * *

He doesn’t write.

I don’t understand, I expected him to make fun of this in the most obnoxious way. I’m still expecting it. He’s the bastard, it’s what he does.

Instead of fulfilling those expectations, he’s silent. Why? What is he planning? He must be planning something, it’s the only thing that can explain his silence. That, or he’s just enjoying the sight of me getting more worked up the longer he doesn’t write. Most likely a combination of the two. Bastard.

Why the hell is my brain making me dream about him? Even worse, making me dream about him like that?

The day started so well, too. Thinking up plans of future retaliation proved to be a good distraction from those stupid dreams, and I’d mostly managed to keep them out of my mind. Also helped by spending most of the day playing with Naruto in the park, a great way to physically work out my frustration. When we returned home, I was almost in a good mood.

The bastard, just by keeping silent, has destroyed all that progress. How talented he is.

I’m glad the brat picked up on the change in my mood and didn’t put up too much protest for either his bath or his bedtime. I  also managed to resist the urge to make everything worse by writing to him.

I told the bastard to shut up and for once he’s actually listening. I won’t give him the satisfaction of being the first to break. Which is also why I made him dinner, just to spite him by acting normal. I didn’t even make anything sweet or fried, despite the near irresistible temptation to do so. That might be irrational, but this entire thing is irrational, so I can’t even find it within myself to pretend to care.

I hope he chokes on every bite.

Finished with getting ready for bed, I turn off the light and rub my eyes. I’m not going to dream about him. I am not. I command my brain not to.

Walking towards my bed, the room suddenly becomes a little less dark. Not much, but enough to be noticeable. I halt with a frown, confused by what could’ve caused this. Realizing where the light must be coming from, I turn around.

One of the curtains is open, letting in some moonlight. But I just closed–

"I’ve decided to help you with your problem."

Part of me realizes that I’m letting out a scream as I _spin towards a voice that isn’t supposed to be here_ and what the hell is that a ghost– there’s an ANBU in my room. An ANBU. In my bedroom.

That absolute bastard.

"Why are you– no, I'm not doing this. It's bad enough you keep stalking me invisibly, now you're going to physically harass me as well? And what the hell do you mean, help me with my problem? I don't have a problem. Except for being stalked of course."

My mouth runs on automatic, words spewing forth almost without me realizing what I’m saying. All of me is consumed with straining my eyes to their limit, I have to, can’t help it. I’ve never minded not knowing what he looks like, but now that I’m actually seeing him, the need to know is sudden and brutal and impossible to resist.

Except of course the bastard is standing _just_ outside the moonlight, hidden almost entirely by shadows. He probably thinks it makes him look mysterious.

It does.

I can make out the distinctive bleached mask, hints of a darker color splashed across, cutting and harsh. The faint outline of a pale breastplate and shadows created by crossed arms. Every other part of him is obscured by darkness, impossible to see no matter how hard I try.

The final result is eerie and frightening. It’s exactly what a ninja assassin is supposed to look like.

...It’s an oddly attractive sight.

"I disagree, you’ve developed quite the issue. You’re so unsatisfied that you’re even fantasizing about men you don't have visual contact with," he mocks in a voice that’s surprisingly similar to the mental one I've unwittingly given him.

I raise an unimpressed brow. My own hands are more than satisfying, as he damn well knows. I’ve also managed a booty call since the disastrous First Attempt. I’m not frustrated. Anymore.

Even if I was.

"You’re planning to fix that how exactly?"

"Take off your clothes."

* * *

 

I set down Naruto’s breakfast with a smile. It’s a beautiful morning.

"Nee-chan, you're being weird." The brat’s suspicious squint is hilarious. I ruffle his hair.

"Am I?" I return cheerfully. Naruto manages to narrow his eyes even further.

"Yes you are! You're smiling!" he accuses like it’s a crime to do so.

"What’s so strange about that? The sun is shining, the birds are singing. What's not to smile about?"

Naruto looks deeply disturbed. So hilarious. I sit down and dig into my breakfast.

"...Mary-nee. You're _humming_."

My smile turns into a grin and I hum louder just to make the brat squirm some more.

Really, the benefits of mind blowing orgasms are vastly underrated.

* * *

 

**_We have got to do that again._ **

He doesn’t reply before I need to drop off Naruto at school, but I’m in too high spirits to be annoyed by, well, anything. Not to mention that the circumstances are rather unusual. I can’t blame him for needing some time to think over my invitation.

I decide to give him until I return from work to answer.

* * *

 

“Did anything special happen?”

Aside from having my brain melted by sex?

“Not really,” I answer. “Why do you ask?”

Ren shrugs. “You’re in a really good mood. I wondered if it was because of something in particular. Like, say, something to do with your secret admirer?” he finishes with a teasing grin. I roll my eyes, involuntarily amused. It’s ridiculous how my friends keep bringing up the imaginary flirting between me and the bastard.

“Nothing happened with him.” Nothing that’s any of his business at least.

“You sure? How do I know you’re not lying? You aren’t exactly willing to talk about him,” Renji taunts like the asshole he is.

“Who’s not willing to talk about who?” Tori asks as she appears out of the kitchen.

“It’s nothing,” I answer just as Renji does as well.

“Mari and her secret admirer.”

“Ah, I see,” Tori says to Renji with a sage nod and a mischievous smile, completely ignoring my own words. Now that he has an ally in his teasing, Renji’s own grin grows exceptionally. He’s in a really good mood himself. Which means he’s acting like an even greater asshole than usual.

“Oh look, customers,” I say as Natsu and a woman I don’t know enter with perfect timing. “I’ll go take their order.” With that, I make my escape.

I hear Tori giggle and Renji chuckle, but thankfully they don’t continue gossiping about me and the bastard. Out loud at least, who knows what kind of silent conversation they’re having.

Honestly, it’s ridiculous how they and the fashion duo keep bringing up our imaginary flirting. The bastard and I are just friends. The fact that we slept together doesn’t change that. It’s just sex. Brain melting sex, absolutely, but still just sex.

We had fun. There’s nothing wrong with that.

I’m really hoping that he wants to continue having fun as much as I do.

* * *

 

He’s answered when I return from my shift, and I’m not ashamed to admit that I make a beeline for the note.

_I'm flattered. I thought you didn't do repeat performances._

**_That is correct, normally I don't. Normally my brain doesn't dribble out my ears either. Besides, you're going to keep stalking me anyway, it would be a shame not to take advantage. I had fun, you had fun, why not keep having fun?_ **

I wait for his reply but none comes. Well, there’s no rush I suppose. If he didn’t expect an invitation for a repeat, he probably needs some time to think about his answer. I can be patient. Especially if being patient leads to more mind blowing orgasms.

I get comfortable on the couch and start writing.

I’m feeling very creative right now.

* * *

He doesn’t answer before I need to go pick up Naruto, and the remainder of the day passes in silence as well. Instead of annoying me, I can’t help but be amused. It seems my invitation has caught him off guard to the point of speechlessness. How unexpected.

I decide to give him until tomorrow to reply.

Entering my bedroom, I close the curtains.

"I can’t argue with that kind of logic."

Spinning around with a scream because _the room is supposed to be empty!_ I was the only one here!

Fucking _ninja_.

"You absolute bastard,” I swear the instant I manage to regain my scattered thoughts. “Are you going to keep– black and straight hair,” I end in a flat voice as I notice the change. “Really. Just because it was dark doesn't mean I didn't notice your hair was light and spiky. It's a little late to try to hide that now." Seriously, what does the bastard hope to achieve with this?

On another note, he doesn’t look as eerie as he did yesterday. With the lights on, he can’t be all mysterious and stand in the shadows.

In some ways, the added light does make him more intimidating. Without the darkness to obscure the details, it’s impossible to forget that his armour isn’t for show. It’s meant for heavy combat, and unlike most ninja outfits, it doesn’t even attempt to hide it.

On the other hand, seeing him casually leaning against the wall greatly reduces the killer ghost vibe he had going on yesterday.

...He looks even more attractive like this. Especially his upper arms and the sliver of skin revealed there.

The mystery that is my mind will never cease to amaze me.

"Because my hair couldn’t have been disguised yesterday?" he counters like it’s cute that I didn’t realize this on my own. I can’t help the wry twist of my lips. The worst part is that his words make sense. In this world of distinctive coloring, it’s pointless to hide your face without hiding your hair as well.

Even so.

"You're insane," I have to point out the obvious.

"I also make your brain dribble out your ears," he returns in a remarkably cheerful voice. He’s so proud of himself.

It’s definitely not without cause.

"True,” I admit without hesitation. Credit where credit’s due and all that. “I'm willing to put up with a lot if you keep doing that," I add with a hopeful look. While it’s clear that he’s up for another round, I would _really_ like for there to be more than one. If his paranoia demands those rounds always happen in uniform, I have no problem with that whatsoever.

He straightens with the kind of grace only a ninja can have, his casual air replaced by a focus so intense it’s almost physical.

"Then I better get to work.”

* * *

 

“You are in a remarkably good mood.”

“Are you saying I’m usually in a bad mood?” I tease.

“Not at all. I am merely saying that your high spirits are worth remarking on,” Itachi counters, placid as ever.

"Maybe I’m just happy to see you. It’s been awhile since you dropped by," I return with a smile. It isn’t a lie, I am happy to see him.

However, I will readily admit to myself that my high spirits are thanks to a steady supply of mind blowing orgasms this past week. I’m not about to tell that to Itachi, though. Or anyone else for that matter. What the bastard and I do behind closed doors is no one’s business but our own.

Though things are different now. The bastard has taken to mostly writing in the evening. I’m pretty sure it’s because the brain melting sex means he’s less bored with his job of stalking us and he no longer feels quite as strong an urge to harass me.

I don’t mind the change in routine. Means I can focus on other things during the day without him distracting me, yet still enjoy our banter later in the evening.

Banter that now leads to brain melting sex. Somehow it just manages to become even more mind blowing every time.

My libido has never been this high.

“My apologies, I have been busy,” Itachi says, and I know he means it. He would’ve come by if he could. The life of a ninja is a busy one.

I mostly manage to ignore the horrifying implications that thought holds when applied to a boy not even thirteen years old.

"Too busy to visit your favorite waitress? Itachi, I'm hurt,” I tease instead.

“I hope my presence here today is a suitable apology for my absence,” he replies with an almost unnoticeable hint of mischievousness. I raise a brow in a silent demand for some elaboration. I don’t see how him picking up his little brother constitutes as an apology. Or why it would inspire mischievousness.

"Nee-chan, nee-chan, nee-chan!" The loud shouting draws my attention. Naruto really needs to work on his volume control.

A blonde battering ram almost knocks me over and small arms strangle my legs like weed, before a breathtaking amount of sunshine is beamed up at me. Something amazing happened to him today.

"Sakura-chan played ninja with me!"

I grin. This will never get old.

"Congratulations." I say while ruffling his hair. Naruto beams even brighter and prepares to launch into an unending string of chatter detailing exactly what happened today with _Sakura-chan_.

"Nii-san!" The shout makes me lift my head just in time to see a dark blur shooting towards Itachi. Right before colliding with him, the blur somehow manages to halt and transforms into a dark haired child radiating with joy. "You came!"

"I told you I would, otouto."

So this is Itachi's little brother. I’ve seen him before of course, but always from a distance. Seeing him up close is incomparable. Shisui is right, he’s almost unbearably cute.

And Itachi is actually smiling a little. I’ve never seen him this expressive. It suits him very well indeed.

A tugging at my pants draws my attention back down. I look at Naruto with confusion. The brat is twisting the fabric in balled fists. He’s also glaring at Itachi’s little brother.

"What're _you_ doing here?"

Wait, what?

The brat’s accusation makes Itachi’s little brother glare back, a scowl replacing his previous smile, and he crosses his arms aggressively.

"What're _you_ doing here?" he returns with as much hostility as the brat.

" _I'm_ getting picked up by my nee-chan!" Naruto retorts like Itachi’s little brother just insulted one of his beloved frogs.

"Well _I'm_ getting picked up by my nii-san!" the boy snaps back with just as much heat. I turn a bewildered look Itachi’s way, having no idea what’s going on here.

Itachi does. His eyes are positively gleaming with amusement.

My attention is drawn back down as I hear Naruto scoff, and I see that he’s actually giving the other boy a _smug_ look, of all things.

" _My_ nee-chan picks me up every day, _your_ brother doesn't."

I gently smack the back of his head on pure instinct, even before I register the heartbreaking flinch of hurt from Itachi’s little brother.

"That was unbelievably rude and mean. Apologize," I order. Naruto looks up at me like a betrayed puppy, but I remain strong. Behavior like this is unacceptable.

The brat adds a pout, refusing to submit to reason. I narrow my eyes in warning.

"Now _._ "

Naruto scowls as he realizes that I won’t budge, before he releases a dramatic sigh that tells me exactly how much he doesn’t want to do this. Tough luck, I’m not going to let him get away with this kind of behavior. Being rude might be wired into his genes, but this is a step too far even for him.

"Sorry." It’s barely a mumble. Good enough.

It makes Itachi's little brother _smirk_. It’s a high quality smirk, the kind that will one day infuriate anyone it’s aimed at.

Right now it’s adorable.

"See? Even your sister thinks you're stupid."

His words, not so much.

"Sasuke." Itachi's admonishment is soft yet sharp, somehow easily heard above Naruto's cry of rage. I manage to grab the back of the brat’s shirt before he can physically assault the other brat. Who is looking genuinely chastised. Itachi has trained him well.

"Sorry," he says, and it comes over a lot more sincere than Naruto managed. Still blatantly false, though.

The brat gives him a furious glare.

"You bastard!"

Wait, Naruto’s bastard is _Itachi’s little brother?_ That’s... that’s even more perfect than I could’ve imagined! Why on earth hasn’t Itachi mentioned this before? Or Shisui for that matter? I have a valid excuse for my ignorance, but they don’t.

...Oh that sneaky little ninja. I don’t know about Shisui, but Itachi planned for this to happen exactly because I didn’t know.

“I will ruin _all_ your tomatoes _forever_ ,” the brat vows in what he thinks is a threatening way, but he only manages to hit cute and comical.

Or rather, it’s cute and comical to me. Itachi’s little brother becomes genuinely worried, though he quickly tries to hide it.

This just keeps getting better and better. Judging from the silent laughter in Itachi’s eyes when I look at him, he agrees completely.

This more than makes up for his absence, it really, truly, absolutely does. In fact, the next time he visits is my treat.

"Brat, you will not ruin all his tomatoes forever," I order while doing my best to keep my laughter from breaking through. While this entire thing is hilarious to me and Itachi, it isn’t to the brat and his bastard. This is Very Serious Business. Which means I have to act like a responsible guardian and set a good example.

Naruto shoots me a look of such betrayal that it’s almost enough to make my control break.

"But–"

"No buts," I cut him off. If I don’t, I’ll lose the fight against my laughter, and that would truly hurt him. That has to be avoided at all costs.

The brat gives a sullen pout but thankfully obeys.

His bastard smirks again. The boy doesn’t say anything because of Itachi’s previous admonishment, but with that expression, he doesn’t need to. Naruto is smart enough to not react with violence again, but he does give a fierce glare back.

So adorable.

No, this is Serious Business. I need to remain strong.

"I did not expect for you to behave so rudely in front of Mari-san." It’s the hidden teasing in Itachi’s voice that draws my gaze back to him. I raise a questioning brow, but Itachi doesn’t explain, just keeps wearing that small and unbelievably cute smile. It really drives home the resemblance between him and his little brother.

His little brother lets out a derisive scoff.

"Why not? If she's this idiot's sister–" Itachi glancing down at him immediately makes him shut up. Very well trained indeed.

“You bastard, don’t call her stupid–”

“Brat, he didn’t call me me stupid,” I interrupt to prevent a fight from breaking out. It’s sweet that he’s offended on my behalf, but I really don’t need him to protect me from a six year old. Especially not against imagined slights.

Naruto looks up at me like a betrayed puppy once more. I bite my cheek to contain my laughter. This is important, don’t break down, don’t break down.

I still glance at Itachi to share in the hilarity of this entire situation. When I do, Itachi’s cute smile grows a fraction.

"Mari is not her full name,” he says with the same hidden teasing as before, before letting a beat of silence pass. Savoring whatever is coming next. "Her full name is Takahashi Mariko."

Black eyes almost bug out and a small jaw drops.

" _You're_ Mariko-sensei?" The boy _blushes_. It melts my heart as much as it confuses me.

Naruto squints with suspicion as Itachi’s little brother lowers his gaze. The boy fidgets with his shirt, before he shyly glances up at me through his lashes.

He’s almost painfully cute.

"I... I really like your stories."

I gape. Then I grin. So hard.

"Oh really? Which one's your favorite?" This is just precious.

I’ve never been more proud to be a writer.

"Frozen." he blurts, and blushes a little brighter as he glances up at his brother. I share another look of silent laughter with the genius that is Itachi, the mastermind behind this beautiful moment in time.

This is too adorable for words.

* * *

 

**_It turns out that my fanbase includes two adorable Uchihas instead of one._ **

_Should I be jealous?_

**_Very._ **

_Here I thought no one could ever replace me in your heart._

**_Sometimes I wonder why I keep putting up with you._ **

"Allow me to remind you."

* * *

 

“Aren’t we cheerful today?”

My words make Tori laugh brightly, and she actually twirls around to face me.

“I’m having a wonderful day,” she says with a smile that lights up the entire room.

“Apparently,” I return with a grin. I was already in a great mood when I got here, but Tori’s high spirits have improved it even more. I’m not the only one affected, Renji can’t stop grinning like an idiot whenever he sees her practically dancing through the teahouse.

The Dancing Dragon has never been more appropriately named.

“So what’s the occasion?” I ask.

“My exceptional mood, of course,” Tori quips with a ridiculous attempt at a serious expression. I chuckle.

“You really woke up on the right side of the bed today.”

Tori’s eyes widen with surprise, before she dissolves into hysterical giggles, laughing so hard that she has to lean on the table to keep herself upright.

“Yeah, I really did,” she manages to get out before being overtaken by laughter again, and I have to join in myself. Tori’s cheer is just so contagious.

It’s nice that my wish for an even better year than the last is off to such a great start.

* * *

 

_The stew could’ve used more spices._

**_Be sure to keep that in mind when you make it yourself._ **

_So defensive. I’m just offering some friendly advice._

**_See, when I’m the one who feeds you free of charge, it sounds less like advice and a lot more like criticism._ **

_Not my fault you’re so touchy about offers of well intended aid._

**_You do realize that I can cut you off whenever I feel like it, right?_ **

_Well, we can’t have that. Might there be an alternative payment I can offer?_

**_Now that you mention it, I do have a few ideas in mind._ **

“I’m all ears.”

* * *

"No it's not!"

"I don't know, if you tilt your head just so..."

"It's _not_ , dattebayo! It's a frog! It's not a bunny!"

"But–"

"It's. A. Frog!"

I couldn’t stop my smile from splitting my face even if I wanted to. I also can’t find it within myself to even pretend to care that the brat’s volume is bothering the other customers.

Naruto is glaring fiercely as he clutches his latest masterpiece close, defensive and indignant in a way only a handful topics can inspire.

Renji is looking down at him with a teasing grin.

"Are you sure? Because–"

"A! Frog!"

My smile somehow manages to grow even bigger. I have no idea why Renji has suddenly come around like this, but I hope with all my heart it never ends.

* * *

 

_He's right, it looks like a bunny. Or its mutilated remains anyway. Why hang it up there, of all places?_

**_I am never taking this down._ **

_That's really what you want to see every time you walk out the door?_

**_It really is._ **

_And you call me insane._

**_You are. Completely._ **

_I'm hurt._

**_So sensitive._ **

_I don't know how I'll ever get over this._

**_My deepest apologies. Whatever can I do to make up for this grievous injury?_ **

"I might have a suggestion or two."

* * *

 

"You've been in a great mood the past few weeks," Rukia cheerfully threatens. I suppose I should’ve seen this coming. She’s been dropping “subtle” hints that she knows something is going on for the past week.

I also happen to know that she’s bluffing. She’s got nothing on me.

So I shrug, totally casual and nothing out of the ordinary here.

"My writing is going well. Really well, actually. I’m experiencing what you’d call a creative high."

“That does always put you in a good mood,” Rukia agrees with a smile. She’s not convinced.

“Then there’s Renji and, well, how can I not be in a great mood when he and the brat are finally getting along?” I ask rhetorically. It’s not a lie, even without adding in anything else, that alone would be more than enough to put me in high spirits.

“Very true,” Rukia agrees with an emphatic nod, sincere in a way she wasn’t before. Ever since Renji has gotten over Naruto containing the Fox, things have been so much better for everyone involved. “Things are so much better now that they’re getting along,” she finishes with a happy sigh.

She’s still not convinced.

"And Naruto has progressed to actual play dates at Sakura’s home.” I feel a grin grow just from saying the words out loud. This will never get old. “Though Ino keeps chaperoning, of course,” I add, hoping that Rukia will take the bait and change the subject to the brat’s love life.

Rukia sips her tea. Damn it, I’m running out of excuses.

"The brat is even starting to get along with his bastard,” I say, and curse myself for the hint of desperation I’m unable to keep out of my voice. Rukia, of course, smells the blood in the water. Her smile becomes just a little too sharp, before she skillfully hides it like the gossip predator she is.

I bravely stick to my totally casual and nothing out of the ordinary behavior.

“Their fighting has turned almost playful,” I finish with a chuckle that definitely isn’t forced.

"All very nice things,” Rukia agrees serenely. “Very nice things indeed."

Shouldn't have expected that to work. I avert my gaze to the side as I rack my brain for something else to distract her. When I fail to come up with something, I let out a resigned sigh.

The truth always works best.

"...He gave me a good luck charm." I don’t need to specify who.

Rukia’s brows shoot up high and her jaw actually starts to drop before she quickly snaps it shut. Then she grins like the cat that caught the canary.

"Oh really? When did this happen?"

“...After we came home from the festival.”

“How sweet." The cat that caught the canary, the mouse, and cleaned out the cream for good measure. I roll my eyes to hide my relief.

I didn’t lie. I just didn’t tell the entire truth. Nothing wrong with that.

“The dedication you both show to your correspondence is truly admirable.”

Now I just need to live with the fact that Rukia is going to harass me about our imaginary flirting even more.

As long as it keeps her from prying any deeper, I can do that.

* * *

 

I chew my pen as I reread the scene, before I cross out a few sentences and rewrite them. I read it again.

It still sucks. Damn it all to hell!

I barely manage to resist the urge to slash my pen across the page, throwing the stupid notebook down the coffee table instead.

Screw fight scenes, they are so damn difficult!

I rub my eyes, annoyed with everything. It was so easy at first, too. Words just kept flowing, the scenes unfolding before my eyes. Then I reached the fight and everything started going downhill. Including my mood. In a way it hasn’t since the brain melting sex started.

I need to go do something else. Need to let this rest and look it over tomorrow with fresh eyes. Preferably after another mind blowing orgasm to help boost my creativity.

My eyes slide back towards the notebook.

...Damn it, I need to finish this. It’s _almost done_.

I lean over to pick it back up. Right before I do, a note materializes besides it.

_Having trouble?_

**_I hate fight scenes._ **

I’m about to place down my reply when I have a brilliant stroke of inspiration and quickly unfold the note again.

**_Want to help out?_ **

Who better to ask than a ninja? At the very least he’ll be able to give pointers on how to make the fight more realistic.

I impatiently wait for his reply. That bastard better not push my buttons by keeping silent. Not about this. I will hurt him if he does.

Fortunately for him, he doesn’t keep quiet.

_An invitation to read your unfinished work? You must really be desperate._

I roll my eyes, not in the mood for our usual banter.

**_Like you haven't been doing that anyway. Now will you help or not? And don't avoid the question, just answer yes or no. I am not in the mood._ **

He takes longer than usual to reply, and I just know it’s because he enjoys seeing me suffer. There’s literally no other explanation. It’s not like it’s the question is difficult to answer.

Finally, the note teleports.

_What's in it for me?_

Really? _Really?_

Screw you!

I almost write that down but a thought occurs right before I do. I feel a slow smile grow. Well, if he wants incentive...

**_I have an interesting trick involving tongue._ **

"If that trick meets my expectations, I might be convinced to give some pointers."

At least I no longer scream when the bastard materializes out of nowhere. Still can’t help my startled yelp though, courtesy of my heart being stuck in my throat.

Damn ninja.

* * *

 

“No way!”

The muffled shout makes me frown with confusion.

Why is the brat awake?

When I hear a muted yelp, my mind clears enough to realize that I need to get up and find out. This sucks, I’m deliciously boneless and was halfway through falling asleep. But Naruto needs to be in bed.

When did he even get up? He wasn’t when I got cleaned after having fun with the bastard.

It was a _lot_ of fun. The bastard was kind enough to repay my trick with one of his own, and ninja have the best magic tricks ever.

Mind still fuzzy, I get up, hearing another muffled shout as I do. The shout is followed by the sounds of running feet, before I hear... a window being opened?

I move faster, a little worry starting to rise. Why is Naruto opening the window?

"Brat, why aren’t you in bed?" I demand as I open the door. Given that I’m still drowsy and it’s dark, I need a moment to realize just what it is I’m looking at.

I’m looking at Naruto falling down from a flower pot and hitting the floor with a loud yelp, snapping me wide awake in an instant.

"Naruto!” I exclaim while running over, dropping to my knees in front of him. “Are you alright?" He looks fine and his expression isn’t hurt so much as it’s stunned, but I still run my hands over him to check. I know he’s probably unharmed but my racing heart forces me to make sure.

"Mary-nee, _I saw the cat_." Naruto’s awed whisper shout makes me freeze.

He what?

I push my bewilderment away and continue checking him over. I can deal with his impossible words after I’m sure that he isn’t hurt.

"Nee-chan, did you hear? I saw the cat!" Naruto exclaims at an exceptional volume even for him and with a grin that just keeps on growing. I decide to ignore his impossible words a moment longer. While I’m now reassured that he’s alright, there’s an extremely important issue I have to address before doing anything else.

"Brat. Were you leaning out the window?" It needs to be asked, no matter that it’s a rhetorical question. I saw him do it. Or rather, the only reason he could have to stand on that pot is to get high enough so he could _lean out of a window three stories high_. What the hell? He _knows_ that’s forbidden, knows that the rules concerning safety are _not_ to be broken under any circumstances.

This is unacceptable.

Naruto’s excitement crashes with guilt. The brat was so leaning out of the window, no matter that it’s forbidden and _he could have fallen to his death!_ It doesn’t matter that the bastard would’ve caught him, what matters is that Naruto doesn’t know that and _he put himself in needless danger on purpose!_

Before I can begin telling him _exactly_ how unacceptable that is, never mind decide on a fitting punishment, the brat gains a fiercely determined expression.

"Mary-nee, I. Saw. The _._ Cat!"

His passionate exclamation makes another surge of bewilderment battle with my anger. I need a moment or ten to make sense of that statement.

Looking at the brat’s overwhelming giddiness, I also realize that I won’t be able to drive home the importance of _not leaning out of a window three stories_ _high_ until I deal with his impossible words.

So.

"You... saw the cat,” I say out loud to see if it will help make sense of the words.

It doesn’t help.

How the hell did Naruto manage to see the bastard? And if he did, why is he still calling him a cat?

" _Yes!_ ” Naruto squeals at a volume loud enough to make me wince, before he launches into a torrent of words where breathing is optional. “I was looking at his dinner and then I heard him meow and the window was open and then he meowed again and I saw his shadow and he went to the kitchen and I tried to sneak up on him but he’s so sneaky because I heard him meow again but he wasn’t in the kitchen anymore so I looked back at his dinner and it was gone and I ran over and I felt him against my leg and then the window closed and _I saw the cat,_ dattebayo!"

By the time the barrage ends, Naruto is jumping up and down with glee.

I slowly process all he’s said. So, if I’m getting this right... the bastard used magic to make Naruto think a real cat broke in and ate dinner.

I close my eyes, equally torn between my remaining anger at the brat’s behavior and the sheer hilarity of the situation.

“I saw him, I saw him, I really did, _I saw the cat_ , dattebayo!”

The hilarity wins out.

I burst out laughing. The bastard actually used magic to make Naruto think he’s a real cat! I know that the brat has tried to catch him in the act of eating before, but I never expected the bastard to play along like _this_.

This is just perfect.

I’ll have to show him my appreciation tomorrow.

* * *

 

**_Your pointers are surprisingly helpful._ **

I honestly hadn’t expected them to be. At least, not this much. I also hadn’t expected to feel so little annoyance over seeing his writing invading my notebooks. True, I’m the one who asked him, but I still expected to be incredibly annoyed by his interference. Instead, I'm only a little annoyed.

_Always happy to serve._

**_Allow me to show my appreciation._ **

And for the beautiful show yesterday of course, but why not combine my gratitude?

_If you insist._

**_Any suggestions? Or do you want me to surprise you?_ **

_Can’t it be both?_

**_My, aren’t we greedy. Tell you what, you get to choose tonight, and I’ll surprise you tomorrow._ **

****Which means I won't be combining them after all. Not that I'm complaining.

_That’s not going to work._

Oh?

**_How so?_ **

_Starting tomorrow, I won’t be around anymore._

Wait, what?

**_I’m going to need some elaboration on that._ **

_Congratulations, you’ve graduated from constant surveillance to the occasional check-up._

I stare at the words, a tangled mess of feelings. On one hand, this is good. Really good. It means I can officially stop worrying about anyone discovering my past.

On the other hand, I’ve gotten used to the bastard stalking us. More than that, he’s a friend. I enjoy talking with him. The knowledge that I won’t be able to anymore is... extremely disappointing. Even without adding in the loss of mind blowing orgasms.

I don’t want him to leave.

I’m also starting to get pissed. He’s leaving _tomorrow_ and he only tells me now? What the hell?

**_You couldn’t have mentioned this sooner?_ **

_I could have._

Oh that absolute bastard. He’s not even sorry!

**_Why didn’t you?_ **

_Where’s the fun in that? Besides, you’re the one who always complains about being held under surveillance. I thought you’d be happy about this._

Is that bastard actually going to act like there’s nothing out of the ordinary– of course he is, why am I even surprised?

I’m not going to play along.

**_Don’t pretend like you’re not acting like a complete bastard. You should’ve told me sooner._ **

_I would like to point out that I don’t actually owe you anything._

That complete and utter _bastard_. I barely manage to resist the urge to crumple the note like the piece of trash it is without reading the rest of his reply.

_Besides, I’m not going away forever. I just won’t be around all the time anymore._

**_And if you’d warned me about that sooner, I wouldn’t be reacting like this._ **

Seriously, what’s so hard to understand about that? Bastard.

_Does that mean you don’t want to say goodbye?_

I close my eyes, as exasperated as I’m conflicted. On one hand, I’m pissed as hell. On the other, if this is the last brain melting sex I’ll be having for... how long is he going to be away, actually?

**_When are you coming back?_ **

_That’s classified._

Of course it is.

So, do I want to keep being righteously pissed at him, or do I want to work out my anger in a much more pleasurable way?

When put like that, the answer is obvious. However.

**_If you want to have even the slightest chance of me welcoming you back, you better damn well convince me that it’ll be worth it._ **

“I will do my very best to leave a lasting impression.”

* * *

 

“Are you mad at the cat?”

Yes I am. Not that it matters, seeing as the bastard has _left_. Which is the whole reason that I’m mad. Kind of mad.

Alright, I’m not mad. I’m... hurt. No matter how irrational that is.

“Mary-nee?”

I sigh. I'm really not in the mood to talk about this. But the brat deserves to know.

“I’m not mad at him,” I answer as I sit down as well and pick up my chopsticks.

Instead of digging in, I just poke at my food. I didn’t even have the heart to make something sweet or fried. Not tonight.

“But you didn’t make him dinner,” Naruto points out in an unusually subdued voice while giving me a worried look. Is it that obvious how I’m feeling?

I muster a smile for him, not that difficult to do even in my current state. Admittedly, it’s a small smile.

“He’s away for a while,” I explain, and let out an annoyed sigh just from saying the words out loud.

See, this is why it’s so ridiculous that I’m hurt by his absence. It’s not like he’s gone forever. He’ll be back.

Of course, I’d feel a lot better if I had even a vague idea of _when_ he’ll be back. Bastard.

“Oh!” Naruto exclaims at his usual volume and with an expression of dawning realization. “That’s why you’re sad!”

I can’t help the wry quirk of my lips. Apparently it is that obvious.

“Don’t worry, nee-chan, he’ll be back soon! You said so yourself! Right?”

“Right,” I confirm, and this time saying it out loud does make me feel a little better. I lean over to ruffle his hair, grateful for his magical ability to cheer me up, and bask in the sunshine smile my action earns me.

The bastard might be gone for a while, but I still have my brat. I still have my friends. I'm not alone.

I’ll be just fine.

* * *

 

“What has you in such a bad mood?”

“Why the hell does everyone keep asking me that?” I snap, completely fed up. Seriously, I’ve heard variants of that question more times than I can count these past couple of days.

Shiro, of course, is completely unmoved by my aggression, just raises his brow the slightest bit. Silently pointing out that my own reaction more than answers that question.

I sigh and rub my eyes. “Ever thought that me not saying what’s wrong might mean, oh, I don’t know, that I don’t want to talk about this?”

“The thought had occurred to me.” And then he'd disregarded it like the gossip he is. Wonderful.

“Why don’t you go revisit that thought,” I snap with a glare.

“Mari,” he chides in a way that only annoys me further. I know that he’s worried about me, I really do. Doesn’t change the fact that _I don’t want to talk about this_.

...Except my friends aren’t going to quit prying into this until they get an answer. And they kind of do deserve to know. I... haven’t been the most pleasant company the past days.

I let out a tired sigh, most of my anger fading away.

“He left.”

Shiro blinks in a way that means he’s trying to figure out what I meant by that. Tough luck, this is all he’s getting. I’m not exaggerating about not wanting to talk about this.

When he figures out who I’m referring to, his eyes soften with sympathy. His shoulders also tighten almost unnoticeably, awkward and uncomfortable with my confession. He has no trouble teasing me about my supposed crush, but hearing I actually miss the bastard is different. No matter how irrational Shiro knows that is.

I’m not her.

“...I’m sorry to hear that.”

“How kind,” I mock more sharply than intended, and grimace as Shiro’s eyes tighten with more than a little hurt. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to sound like that,” I immediately apologize. That was uncalled for.

Shiro’s hurt doesn’t disappear, making my guilt grow. It’s difficult to truly hurt Shiro, usually he just becomes annoyed instead. But even after all this time, I can still make his scars bleed in a way no one else can.

“I’m proud that you’ve finally become aware of your completely inability to temper your sarcasm.” Shiro’s weak attempt at acting like normal makes me smile faintly. I'm grateful for his forgiveness. 

“I’ll have you know that I’ve been aware of it for years," I quip back, acting like normal as well. "I just don’t care about it in the slightest. Most of the time, at least."

“I’m honored to be an exception to your indifference.”

I chuckle, the last of my guilt fading away as Shiro’s shoulders relax. 

Honestly, I need to get a grip. The bastard being gone for a while isn’t the end of the world.

It’s ridiculous to act like it is.

* * *

 

“I still can’t believe that you didn’t tell,” I have to repeat again.

“I still can’t believe that you didn’t know,” Shisui counters with a grin. “Seriously, it’s _the idiot this_ and _the idiot that_. You can’t tell me that Naruto doesn’t talk about him just as much.”

“Oh, the brat talks about him all the time,” I confirm without hesitation. “The only other subject to get so much attention is his precious Sakura-chan. But he’s never, and I do mean never, referred to him as anything else than the bastard.”

“And you never asked?” Shisui returns with mock innocence, acting like he doesn’t already know the answer.

“Hearing him talk about his bastard is hilarious,” I say in a solemn voice that’s ruined by my grin.

“But you didn’t ask even once? It’s been almost half a year.”

“And ruin the fun of the mystery that was his identity?” I counter.

“Are you saying we ruined your fun?” he returns with such shock, before giving me an contrite expression worthy of an award for best actor. “You have our deepest apologies.”

“Do not speak for myself. I am satisfied with the results,” Itachi calmly interjects, the quiet contentment in his eyes revealing just how pleased he is with their little prank. He takes another bite of the dango I treated him to.

I really have missed them both. Hopefully their usual pattern will hold and they’ll be visiting more regularly from now on. For a while, at least.

“It was _beautiful_ ,” I wholeheartedly agree with Itachi, because it really was. The mystery leading up to it only made the reveal so much better.

“In that case, I take back my apology,” Shisui says with a cheerful smile, just as pleased with himself as Itachi is. “We’re always happy to cheer you up– why are you looking at me like that,” Shisui demands in a startlingly sharp voice while turning Itachi full on, his expression harsh and dark eyes narrowed with suspicion. The change in his mood is so abrupt that it makes me blink with confusion.

“I have no idea what you are referring to,” Itachi returns, placid as ever and taking the words right of my mouth.

“No, you do, that was your No Expression Number Eight, I Cannot Believe I Am Related To This Idiot,” Shisui accuses, making me snort with laughter. I only know a handful of Itachi’s No Expressions, and it’s always a delight to discover a new one.

“Do I need a specific reason to feel like that?” Itachi counters without missing a beat. Shisui’s eyes narrow further, his suspicion not in any way abated.

I watch the show with a grin. I still miss the bastard, but it’s getting easier to bear with every day that passes. In moments like these, I barely even mind that he’s gone.

How can I be in anything other than a great mood with a comedy act like this?

* * *

 

Laid out on the couch, I stop writing and bite my lip. Maybe I should– scream as _his mask appears out of nowhere right in front of me!_

I punch out on reflex but a hand somehow catches my own before I can hit his chest. The familiar feeling of his glove snaps me out of my shock.

Today his hair is messy and red. I glare, even as I feel my lips curve up in an involuntary smile.

Of course this is how the bastard announces that he’s back.

He releases my hand and looms even closer, his body hovering right above mine, so close I swear I can feel his heat even with all the layers between us. He’s almost touching me. Almost.

It’s ridiculous how turned on that makes me. I’m blaming the force of my reaction on knowing that his return also means the return of mind blowing orgasms.

"And hello to you, too. Did you have fun?" I ask in a voice that makes the desert seem wet. Seriously, he leaves for fifteen days, so what if I’m counting, and it makes him act like this? Do I even want to know what he’s been up to?

...Probably not. Probably very not.

"So much fun,” he replies what I can only call a gleeful voice for him. He really is in a mood. “I feel like celebrating."

I raise a brow, more than a little intrigued. I also have more than enough time before I need to go pick up Naruto, so if he wants to celebrate...

"What do you have in mind?"

Surroundings blurring, feeling something soft beneath me, completely disoriented. I look around the dark with confusion, needing a moment to figure out what just happened. I also need a moment for my eyes to adjust to the sudden lack of light. Fortunately, it’s not too dark to see.

I’m in my bedroom and I’m sitting on the edge of my bed. The lights are off, the door is closed, and the bastard is standing in front of closed curtains. I feel a wry smile grow.

Ninja.

He starts prowling closer, because the bastard is incapable of something as mundane as walking. Not that I’m complaining. The sight is doing all kinds of delicious things to me.

"Undress." His voice is deceptively soft in the best of ways. I debate on being contrary just to speed things up, but decide to go along. For now.

I wonder where he plans on taking this.

My movements are slow and unhurried on purpose, and I swear I almost see him twitch. I smile. I’ve missed teasing him.

I’ve also missed the mind blowing orgasms. A lot.

Letting the last of my clothing fall to the floor, I shiver as I feel his gaze wandering across, full of anticipation for what comes next.

"Kneel on the bed."

I grin. Such a soft voice.

I really wonder where he plans on taking this.

Kneeling on the bed, I wait for his next move. He prowls forward without a sound and leaves my sight. I feel the bed dip behind me, before heavy cloth covers my eyes, the weight caused by what I realize is the metal plate of a headband. My brows shoot up with surprise.

The blindfold is new.

* * *

 

"Wow.”

I realize that I’ve rasped that out loud when I hear a soft, near shaken laugh in return.

"Very wow,” he agrees.

I feel him start to get up and immediately tighten my grip on his hair, sudden urgency clearing some of my blissful haze. The protesting sound he lets out is completely ignored.

"And just where do you think you're going?" I manage to say in a husky voice ruined by screams.

There’s absolutely no way I’m going to let him leave already. He’s _naked_.

I have so many ideas where to take this next.

"Away?" he counters in an uncommonly bemused voice.

"No you're not." He really isn’t.

"Cuddling isn't your style."

I let out a hoarse snort at his sorry attempt of an excuse.

"Correction, cuddling isn't _your_ style,” I point out the obvious. I’m not the one who always leaves in the literal blink of an eye. “Personally, I enjoy basking in the afterglow with someone. But I respect your quirks."

"Then why the protest this time?" he asks. I feel a huge grin grow, couldn’t contain it even if I wanted to.

"Because this time you're _naked_.” Just saying the words makes me grin some more. “Lie down and let me touch and taste to my heart's content."

He laughs in a way I’ve never heard from him before. He’s as high on happy hormones as I am.

"You have such a way with words."

"The benefits of being a writer,” I return with glee. That’s an agreement if I ever heard one.

He takes hold of my hand still woven through his hair, his other grasping my hip. I release my hold on the soft strands.

Sudden movement, recovering my balance, working through disorientation. Being blindfolded means that I need a moment to figure out what just happened.

He’s rolled us over. I am now sitting on his lap. He’s stretched out beneath me. Naked.

"You may explore," he graciously allows. I feel a giddy smile grow and waste no time in spreading my palms flat on his stomach. The feeling of that soft skin over those hard muscles is delicious. I slowly trail my hands upwards, savoring every touch, the sensation heightened by my lack of vision. It’s enough to make me shiver.

It’s enough to make him shiver as well.

I encounter unexpected roughness. When I realize what it is I’m feeling, I bend down and place my lips down the scar.

I start exploring it meticulously. With my tongue.

He shivers again. I chuckle and lift my head to aim a grin in his direction.

"I have so many ideas where to take this next."

* * *

 

“The cat’s back!”

“Yes he is,” I confirm with a grin, placing the bastard’s dinner down the coffee table.

“See, nee-chan? I told you he’d be back!” Naruto exclaims like he heard it from the bastard himself instead of me. I chuckle and ruffle his hair.

“That you did.”

Naruto smiles with an equal amount of sunshine and satisfaction, adorably pleased with himself. He’s acting like he’s the one who personally brought back the bastard.

“Now you won’t be sad anymore!”

My grin turns into a smile. It’s ridiculous how touched those words makes me feel. It also inspires more than a little amusement.

“No, I won’t.”

Hard to be sad with the prospect of more brain melting _naked_ sex in my immediate future.

* * *

 

After I finish putting Naruto to bed, I leave his room with his smile and a desire to strike up another conversation with the bastard. Not just because it’ll hopefully lead to more brain melting _naked_ sex, but because I’ve missed talking with him.

I freeze as I notice the position of my notebook. The one that’s lain in the exact same place since he first showed up. It’s now laying on the opposite side of the coffee table.

He didn't.

I walk over and open it to one of far too many dog eared pages.

_Samurai don’t ride horses, they’re trained in chakra manipulation._

I have to close my eyes.

He did.

While I’ve missed talking to him, I haven’t missed the way he likes to push all my buttons.

Well, not these buttons, at least.

**_Really. This is a thing now._ **

His reply appears in the literal blink of an eye. That bastard is laughing so hard.

_Surprisingly enough, I enjoy doing this. Why stop?_

**_Because I don't like it when you write in my drafts without my permission._ **

_Are you saying it isn’t helpful?_

**_I'm saying I don't like it when you write in to my drafts without my permission._ **

_You did give permission. Not my fault you didn't specify that my help had to stop after one time._

I have to close my eyes again. Or course.

Now. Is this a line in the sand I want to draw?

My first reaction is yes, yes I do. Viciously so.

...Except his technical nitpicking was very helpful last time. I also hadn't been as annoyed as expected. That last was the biggest surprise of all, no matter that I was the one who asked for his help. I’m both aware and uncaring of the fact that I’m viciously territorial about my unfinished stories.

I’m also much less irritated right now than I would’ve expected this situation to make me. Even when factoring in the return of brain melting sex. The _naked_ brain melting sex.

...His help would improve the story. And my general writing.

Alright then.

**_Just make sure you limit yourself to technicalities. One word about my plot or characters and I will hurt you. I've already proven that I can._ **

Because I _will_ hurt him if he crosses that one.

_I will do my very best to resist temptation._

Which means he'll actually behave. For now.

**_Good boy._ **

"I feel I should be rewarded for my good behavior."

* * *

 

So many nicks and cuts. They’re shallow, not that noticeable even to my heightened sense of touch, but they cover his entire palm. I turn his hand around and start exploring the back. The web of crisscrossing scars continues down to his wrist.

"Having fun?"

"Yes I am," I answer truthfully while continuing to explore his hand with my own. Trying to figure out what he looks like by touch is very fun indeed. Though I’m pretty sure that the mental image I’m forming is completely wrong proportionately speaking. Perception by touch isn’t my strong suit.

I don’t explore his face, no matter how much I want to. Given the insane lengths he goes to in order to keep his identity hidden, trying to map what he looks like without his mask is an unspoken boundary I won’t cross.

He lets out a lazy hum, basking in the afterglow just as much as I am. I didn’t even prompt him to stay this time, he wore me out to the point where I’m simply not up for another round. Yet even though I didn’t ask him to stay, he’s still here.

I’m definitely not complaining.

I bring his hand up to my lips and glide them across the scarred skin. If I wasn’t still riding the high of happy hormones, the sheer amount of them and all the implications that holds would’ve horrified me. As it is, I just enjoy the sensation, so different from anything else I’ve experienced before.

I wonder how he got these.

He allows me to explore in silence, just keeps laying next to me, relaxed and sated. Well, I assume he's relaxed, but given his general insanity and paranoia, I’m certain that my assessment is correct. He would’ve already left if my actions made him uncomfortable.

The blindfold really was a stroke of pure genius.

* * *

 

“Did you get laid?”

“Why on earth would you think that?” I demand without thought, and I’m so grateful that the question comes out more incredulous than shifty.

“You’re in a post-laid mood,” Renji answers, grinning like the asshole he is.

Alright, think. How to deflect? I can’t say that I did, in fact, get laid, that will inevitably lead to the question of who I got laid with. Except I can’t pretend that nothing has happened either, because it’s true that I’m in unusually high spirits.

“...He’s back,” I force myself to say, and just hearing it out loud is enough to make me grin like a loon. Because he’s back and now we’re having brain melting _naked_ sex. Really, it would be strange if I didn’t react like this.

Renji frowns with a confusion that’s quickly replaced by shock. “Wait, what? I thought he was gone?”

“He was. And now he’s back,” I return, amused at his incredulity. And very happy to see him accept the bastard’s presence as a suitable explanation for my high spirits. “I’ve graduated to the occasional check-up,” I elaborate to get this entire thing out of the way with in one go. Renji can inform the others.

“And you already knew he’d return when he first left?” Renji demands half incredulously, half with rising amusement.

“I did,” I confirm.

Renji lets out a snort and shakes his head with a grin that a little mocking but mostly bemused. “And you keep denying your crush.”

I roll my eyes with exasperation. This right here is why I didn’t want to tell my friends about his return.

“I don’t have a crush,” I deny without heat, knowing that my words aren’t going to make the slightest difference.

“Sure, you keep telling yourself that,” Renji patronizes, making me roll my eyes again, even as I can’t help but smile as well.

The lack of teasing about our imaginary flirting was fun while it lasted, I suppose.

* * *

 

**_I have a curiosity. Do all ninja use tricks like you?_ **

_I am one of a kind._

**_Indeed you are. Still, is this common? Do you get taught these things? Please tell me the brat won’t be taught these things. At least, not until he’s well into his teens._ **

_Why the curiosity?_

**_Why the avoidance?_ **

_Maybe I don't feel like answering._

**_Maybe I don't either._ **

_Cute._

**_How long did it take you to figure out that particular quirk of mine anyway? Or did you read it in my file?_ **

_You are uncommonly curious today._

**_And your avoidance is only fanning the flames._ **

_I know._

**_Bastard._ **

_No, we don't get taught. I'm inventive._

**_How kind of you to take pity on me. But seriously, other ninja have got to do this as well. It can't be that hard._ **

_Attempting to wound my ego. You really think that will work?_

**_I do._ **

"You are correct."

* * *

 

"Does it bother you?"

"Hmm?" I’m absently aware that he’s asked something. I’m more aware of his fingers trailing down my back. My brain is still mush in the most delicious of ways.

"Your chakra system. Does it bother you?"

It takes a few moments for his words to make sense. When they do, I need another moment to realize what he’s referring to.

Right. That.

"Not really,” I manage to articulate through the rush of happy hormones still clouding my every thought. Hard to be bothered by something I was born with.

"Not at all?"

My smile grows at his incredulous tone. Ninja.

"Nope."

"How? You're literally incapable of producing more than the bare minimum needed to survive. That's not even mentioning your complete inability to manipulate it."

My smile turns into a grin. He’s acting like I’m invalid. It’s understandable I suppose, compared to him, I’m absurdly fragile. Having no magic must be one of his worst nightmares.

"I'm sure that would be a true tragedy for a ninja. I, however, am a proud civilian."

Though it had been incredibly strange to learn that I do, in fact, possess magic. It’s just that my chakra system is a horribly mutated one. According to the standards of this world, at least.

It’s no wonder magic was never discovered in my old world. Then again, the knowledge that magic does exist over there as well has made me look at old myths and legends in an entirely new light.

"Does it feel very different from before?"

"I don’t feel any difference whatsoever,” I quip with smug satisfaction, speaking nothing but the truth.

The fact that people attribute the differences to the Fox really is incredibly convenient.

* * *

 

"–and then I tackled him and he fell down, so I sat on him and he couldn't get up anymore! So the bastard tried to push me off, but I tickled him and he laughed so hard, but then he–"

Rukia nods along with a grin as Naruto keeps chattering about yet another fight with his bastard. I’m pretty sure he and Sasuke will keep doing that forever. It’s their special way of showing affection for each other.

"I don't know how you manage to live with him day in day out." Shiro says in a soft enough voice that Naruto doesn’t hear. I give him a smile as I continue putting up the chairs.

"He grows on you.” Whether you want it or not. I’m not complaining, but the fact remains that the brat has a way of being charming when objectively speaking, he should be annoying instead.

Shiro lets out a disbelieving sound. Like the brat hasn’t wormed his way inside his own heart as well. I point this out to him with an indulging look.

"Why did Tori ask you to close down today?" he changes the subject. Poor Shiro, so obviously in denial about his own feelings.

"I have no idea,” I answer truthfully. “She said she had something to do, but she didn’t want to talk about it. I didn't push."

"And why isn't Renji here to help?" Shiro asks in a way that means he’s become genuinely interested in the subject now.

"He also had plans. I also didn't push,” I answer with a grin, knowing my lack of knowledge is going to annoy him. “You can interrogate them later. Or ask Rukia, she probably knows where Renji is, at least."

"Perhaps I will,” Shiro returns with slightly narrowed eyes, full of determination to get his answers.

Shiro is such a nosy person, even by Konoha’s standards.

It's amazing how well he manages to hide it most of the time.

* * *

 

_I’ll be gone again tomorrow._

**_Already?_ **

_Careful, I might start to think you don’t mind being held under surveillance after all._

**_More like the mind blowing orgasms make your stalking a lot easier to bear._ **

_Always happy to be of service._

**_Except you won’t be of service much longer._ **

_Do I detect some disappointment?_

**_Should I be glad about the lack of brain melting sex?_ **

_Point taken._

**_Be honest, you’re going to miss it as well._ **

Not that he’ll ever admit it. Saying he’ll miss our brain melting sex is far too close to saying he’ll miss me, and that's something he’ll never admit out loud. The bastard is allergic to mushy feelings. As evidenced by him acting like there’s nothing out of the ordinary about him leaving without warning. Again.

I can already tell this is going to be a regular thing.

_I won’t deny that it’s been surprisingly relaxing._

My brows shoot up with surprise. For him, that’s the equivalent of saying that he’s been having the time of his life.

It’s an incredible boost to my ego. Apparently my bedroom skills are far greater than I realized.

**_Coming from you, that’s high praise indeed._ **

_You know I can actually see your ego swell?_

**_Is that the only thing swelling?_ **

“That is without a doubt the worst pick-up line ever used.”

After a violent twitch I’m probably never going to be able to suppress, I turn around with a grin. He’s standing in his usual spot besides the window, arms crossed and casually leaning against the wall. Today his hair is blonde and curly.

“It worked, didn’t it?” I point out.

“Just for that, I should leave.”

I almost dare him to do just that, but knowing the bastard, he might actually take me up on it. I’m not going to risk the last mind blowing orgasm I’ll be able to have in who knows how long.

“And here I was planning to celebrate my upcoming freedom with a bang,” I say instead, my grin turning wicked.

“Well, I can hardly refuse an invitation like that.”

* * *

 

A heavy breath whispers across my skin, making me shiver with anticipation. Except then he starts pulling back.

My hands fly towards him, but they’re captured and pushed down the bed before I can grab anything, preventing me from yanking his head back down where it belongs, the absolute bastard.

“Naruto is having a nightmare.”

The name makes a flicker of confusion join the haze of desire. Why the hell is he talking about the brat at a time like this?

Doesn’t matter, what matters is getting his lips to resume their downward journey

“If you don’t continue, I will hurt you,” I vow while trying to free my hands, but of course his grip remains unyielding. A strangled sound escapes my throat, as frustrated as I’m turned on. That complete and utter bastard.

“Naruto is crying.”

Wait, what?

The haze of desire starts to lift, replaced by sudden worry. I’m just about to demand why Naruto is crying when I realize that he’s already answered that.

Naruto is having a nightmare. Which is why he’s crying. Because nightmares are terrifying. And they require me to get up and comfort him.

I drop my head down my pillow with a groan. This is without a doubt the worst possible time for the brat to have a nightmare.

Actually, no. The worst possible time would’ve been a minute from now.

I sigh deeply, knowing I have no choice but to get up. The mood has been officially broken. As the bastard has already realized himself. In hindsight, the heavy breath he’d teased me with was actually a sigh of disappointment.

“You should get dressed,” I tell him, so disappointed I won’t be getting that last mind blowing orgasm after all.

“Or I could wait here until you return.”

My brows shoot up with surprise. I honestly expected him to leave. Naruto doesn’t get nightmares often, and he’s only had one since the bastard and I started sleeping together. Just like now, the bastard had halted our fun so I could go comfort him. Unlike now, he’d also left before I returned.

Then again, unlike now, he wasn’t about to leave for who knows how long. I’m not the only one getting cut off from brain melting sex.

“I like the sound of that,” I return with a grin, so happy to get that last mind blowing orgasm after all. I’m also unexpectedly touched by his decision to stay. How far our friendship has come. “Let me know when I can take the blindfold off.”

The words have barely left my mouth before the cloth is gone from my eyes, so quick I didn’t even notice him releasing my hands. I look around with faint disorientation caused by the sudden return of my sight. I can’t see much, courtesy of the time of night and the lights being off, but I’m certain that he’s gone. Turning the lights on confirms this certainty, erasing all shadows left to hide in. Even his uniform is gone.

While I know he’s using magic to hide, the mental picture of him hiding in my closet butt naked is hilarious. So hilarious that I don’t go to check if I’m right. I don’t want to ruin the fantasy.

Quickly throwing on some clothes, I push those thoughts away for now.

I have a brat to comfort.

* * *

 

“The cat’s gone?”

I look down at the brat with confusion. While the question itself isn’t unexpected, the almost fearful tone is. I become even more confused, as well as a little worried, when I see his expression.

Naruto looks scared.

“Yes, he is,” I say slowly while putting our dinner down the table.

I don’t take my seat yet. Not until I figure out what’s making him react like this.

“Where did he go?” he asks, just as fearful as before.

“He’s away. But he’ll be back soon,” I quickly add as I see actual _tears_ rise, making worry overwhelm all else. “Naruto, what’s wrong?”

Naruto’s bottom lip trembles, shattering my heart in a thousand pieces.

“Did the ghosts get him?” he whispers, the lack of volume so unexpected that it takes me a moment to register the meaning of his words. When I do, I manage to bite down my lip just in time in order to contain a chuckle. This is Serious Business.

“No, the ghosts didn’t get him,” I say firmly while kneeling in front of him and grasping his hands, holding his gaze to impress my sincerity on him.

Naruto’s bottom lip trembles with the threat of tears once more, erasing all desire to laugh. Poor brat, still so shaken up from his nightmare. Which involved ghosts, ramen, and a chicken named Monkey. The nightmare was an amusing one objectively speaking, but right now there’s nothing funny about it.

Not when it’s making Naruto act like this.

“Then where did he go?”

“I don’t know, but I do know the ghosts _didn’t_ take him,” I assure him, making sure my voice is strong and certain. “He’s just away for a while. That’s normal for stray cats.”

“But he’s not a stray cat!” I’m so glad he’s returning to his normal volume. “He’s our cat!”

This time I can’t contain my laugh, caught off guard in the best of ways. I knew Naruto liked ‘the cat’ but I didn’t know he considered him ours.

I can’t wait to tease the bastard about this. 

“He visits us because he likes us and considers us his friends. This doesn’t change the fact that he’s a stray cat. And stray cats like to wander. That’s why they’re stray cats instead of cats,”  I explain with a grin. It’s a literal explanation instead of a metaphorical one, true, but I’m not lying. Even without the legal stalking, I can’t imagine the bastard doing anything but drop by whenever he damn well pleases.

There’s a reason I call him a cat.

“But why doesn’t he stay? We take good care of him!”

“Damn straight we do.” He gets free food, friendly banter, and mind blowing orgasms. The bastard is truly spoiled. Mostly by me, but a little by Naruto as well. Or rather, Naruto spoils him by being so easy to tease.

“So why doesn’t he stay?”

“Because he’s a stray cat. Stray cats don’t like to stay in one place.” This is true for real stray cats, but for this particular metaphorical one, I feel confident to conclude that he doesn’t like it either. As evidenced by his high spirits ever since he no longer has to stalk us day in day out.

Well, that and the brain melting _naked_ sex are responsible for his high spirits.

“He stayed before!”

“And now he left.” A bit blunt, maybe, but I don’t know how to explain why he left better than I already have. “He’ll be gone a lot from now on. But don’t worry, he’ll always come back.” Even the bastard wouldn’t just leave forever without warning.

...He probably wouldn’t leave forever without warning.

“You promise?”

I hesitate. I... can’t really promise that. Not just because the bastard might one day stop stalking us, no matter how unlikely that seems, but because he’s a ninja. Worse, he’s an ANBU. I can’t guarantee that one of his missions won’t go horribly wrong. Hell, I can’t guarantee he won’t have a horrible accident when off duty.

Life isn’t safe. No matter how much I wish it was.

But Naruto is a child. He doesn’t need to be confronted with this fact. Not yet.

At the same time, I can’t promise him something I might not be able to keep. If the worst does happen, it’ll be the same as if I’d broken my promise on purpose, and that would cheapen all others I make after.

“I promise he’ll do his best to come back,” I settle on. Technically not a lie. Even ignoring our friendship, the bastard will do all he can to return, if only because it’s his job.

I really hope this promise is enough to satisfy the brat.

It's enough. Naruto gains a sunshine smile. I bite down a sigh of relief.

“Okay, nee-chan!”

As Naruto launches into happy chatter about his precious Sakura-chan, I sit down to start eating dinner, so glad the topic has shifted to safer grounds. The danger has officially passed.

Here’s to hoping this doesn’t happen every time the bastard leaves.

* * *

 

“He said I look _tired_. Can you believe it? I put all this effort into looking presentable, and he actually has the nerve to tell me I look _tired_.”

“That asshole,” I agree, doing my very best to contain my amusement. Judging from the glare Rukia shoots me, I fail. “You look lovely,” I offer as an apology, but that doesn’t make my words any less sincere. Rukia looks fabulous as always.

She’s also scowling at everything in sight.

“Men just don’t understand,” Tori soothes hypocritically as she pours another cup of jasmine, Rukia’s to go to comfort drink when she’s like this.

“Men are fucking assholes,” Rukia snaps, before taking a large gulp of the scalding liquid. How she doesn’t burn her tongue I’ll never know.

“Complete and utter assholes,” I agree with a solemn nod.

“Exactly! The nerve of him, telling me I look _tired_. I’d like to see him look perky with a kunai stabbed into his stomach.”

“It’s the curse of being a woman,” Tori continues to soothe hypocritically. Not that I have any room to talk. We’re both part of the happy minority that isn’t bothered by our periods in the slightest. Unlike Rukia.

Most of the time, she isn’t that bothered by them, either. However, every so often, they’re agonizing to the point where it makes her hate everyone who doesn’t have a womb, and thus, who can’t understand what she’s going through.

She’s hilarious when she’s like this. Yes, I also feel bad for her, this is obviously horrible for her, but again, I can’t truly relate. I only had minor cramps at worst myself, and after I started taking birth control, even those disappeared.

Say what you will about Konoha, but their contraceptive medicine is amazing. The benefits of living in a society obsessed with blood purity.

“The worst part is that he actually tried to put me on _retouching_. What, I’m suddenly an invalid just because I’m leaking like a sieve?”

“How dare he,” I agree instead of pointing out that she doesn’t, in fact, perform to her usual standards of perfection when she’s like this. Given that her mood doesn’t affect Shiro’s own perfectionism in any way, they always fight when she’s like this. Which inevitably ends with Rukia coming to Tori and me to vent.

I’m definitely not complaining.

“I know! Men are the worst,” Rukia continues to rant. Tori and I, being the good friends we are, allow her to vent to her heart’s content.

Sometimes friendship means you have to resist the urge to tease and lend a sympathetic ear instead.

No matter how hilarious your friend is being.

* * *

 

"This is unacceptable behavior."

I manage to keep an insolent smile on my face instead of grinning with glee.

"The stains will never get out!"

Still smiling insolently. And giving another appreciative glance at the discolored spots across the blackboard. The splatter radius is very impressive.

"If he does something like this again, he’ll be suspended."

Now that I can’t let go unanswered.

"You're completely right, Iruka,” I say with as much sincerity as I’m capable of faking right now. Which admittedly isn’t much. “Permanent damage is unacceptable. I’ll make sure he only uses removable paint from now on."

The strangled sound he lets out is _beautiful_.

"That's not the point!"

Naruto is right, Iruka’s voice can go surprisingly high. I manage to give him a confused look instead of cackling with glee.

"It's not?"

"He shouldn't have put paint bombs in my desk in the first place!” he continues in a voice no longer quite so high but still just as rattled. His reaction just makes everything even better, it really does.

It’s not that I don’t like Iruka, I do. While he was an idiot at first, he got over it surprisingly quickly, and ever since then he’s been a good teacher to the brat.

But this is just _beautiful_.

“You're his guardian, _discipline him_ ," he orders with the kind of authority only a ninja can have.

Under these circumstances, it doesn’t affect me in the slightest.

"Really, Iruka, if an academy student managed to catch a fully trained ninja like yourself off guard, I think he should be rewarded for his skill, not punished. It's a credit to your teachings that he succeeded."

Iruka drops his head into his hands with despair.

Absolutely beautiful.

* * *

 

_I'm back._

**_Perfect timing! Today is a beautiful day._ **

_How so?_

**_Naruto managed to prank_ ** **_his teacher_** ** _. He managed to trick an adult ninja! Even better, he did it by doing exactly what Iruka taught him! I'm so proud. He's a little genius, he really is._ **

_My curiosity is roused._

**_It was one of the most wonderful experiences of my life. My only regret is that I saw the aftermath instead of the direct result._ **

_Tell me more._

**_Later. Let’s celebrate your return first._ **

_So demanding. Maybe I'm not in the mood._

**_Well, I wouldn’t want to force you to do anything against your will. Such a shame, though, I was planning on giving you a demonstration. Just to refresh your memory on how I like to be touched._ **

“My mood might be open to change."

* * *

 

I trail my lips down his back, enjoying the warmth and taste of his skin. I halt my exploration as I encounter irregular skin and bring up a hand to trace along the edges.

Such a long, jagged scar. I slide my tongue across.

"So what did he do?" His voice is lazy and satisfied. The bastard so adores basking in the afterglow as well. We really should've used the blindfold from the start.

"He was taught some basic traps last week, and the brat has been enamored ever since. He even used his precious pocket money to buy some extra materials because he wanted to experiment. It’s probably been cleaned up already, but there were a few bushes with interesting colors in the park,” I recount with a smile, sketching the circumstances that led up to this beautiful day. He lets out an encouraging hum.

“He made some paint bombs and tried to hide them in his bag without me noticing. I did notice of course, the brat is the opposite of subtle. But he gave his word that he was only going to target Iruka, and a grown ninja should be able to defend himself against the pranks of a brat. So I allowed him to take them to school. And the little genius snuck back into class during recess and put the paint bombs inside Iruka’s desk."

My smile keeps growing with every word I say. This was _beautiful_.

"Where exactly did he place them?" he asks with an open curiosity I rarely hear. Should've known the bastard would enjoy this.

"That's the best part. He hid one in every drawer. And Iruka got hit by _two._ "

He laughs in the way only happy hormones can inspire and I have to join in myself. Naruto really is a little genius.

"I'm so proud of him." If the brat is already capable of tricking fully trained ninja now, he’ll be able to trick the villains that are going to come after him as well. Of course he will. He’s the main character, he’s going to defeat any who stands in his way.

God, _please_ , let him be quick, clever, _strong_ enough–

Sudden movement. After working through my disorientation, I realize that I’m now laying flat on my back and that he’s holding himself above me, his warmth a delicious tease.

"You've taught him well."

I grin and blindly twine my arms around his neck, accepting his kindly offered distraction.

"I can't take all the credit," I quip in a tone that means I'm doing just that. He chuckles.

"Still, very well done. In fact, this deserves a reward."

Well, after eight days of him being gone, I’m certainly up for another round if he is.

"If you insist."

* * *

 

"But nee-chan–"

"No buts." Honestly, why does he still try this? Granted, it doesn’t happen often anymore, but still. He knows I won’t budge on this.

"They're _vegetables_ ," the brat says like they’re rotten eggs instead healthy food.

"As they are every time," I point out the obvious.

"I want ramen!" he shouts petulantly. He’s in a difficult mood today.

Thanks to the return of mind blowing orgasms, I can handle it with ease.

"And if you eat all of your dinner, there might even be a slight chance that I'll make some tomorrow."

Naruto turns on the puppy power. I take a bite of rice, completely unmoved, not wavering in the slightest. I have built up much resistance.

God, can’t make that sound even a little believable. But I am strong. I will endure.

Naruto adds a pout. I meet those lethal weapons full on to show him he has less than zero chance of convincing me to change my mind.

The brat drops the act with a scowl as he realizes I won’t budge, before he sighs like he’s about to announce the end of the world.

"Fine." He looks down at his dinner with a deep grimace. Slowly, he picks up a few soybeans, before he puts them in his mouth with a disgusted expression and chews as fast as he can, quickly swallowing them down. He shudders with revulsion.

I grin. Such a dramatic little brat.

I’ll reward him by making ramen tomorrow.

He releases another doomsday sigh and gives a sullen look that asks, _there, you happy now?_

I smirk back _yes I am_.

Naruto scowls, but it’s soon replaced by a thoughtful expression. He turns the puppy power back on.

Five-to-one odds that he’s about to beg for sugar.

"Can I have cookies for dessert?"

Bingo.

"Maaaybe." I drawl back. The brat releases another dramatic sigh.

"I'll eat all my vegetables." he says like it’s the greatest concession in the world. I grin.

"Deal. One, no more." I am _not_ having the brat hyped up on sugar. Never if possible, but especially not at this hour. Getting him ready for bed is difficult enough as it is.

The brat visibly debates on whether to wheedle for an additional cookie or not. He really is in a difficult mood. Not because anything bad has happened, I would’ve heard all about it if that was the case. He’s just being difficult because he’s a brat.

I give him a warning look. He’s been pushy the entire day, and while it’s more amusing than anything else, that doesn’t mean I’m going to reward this kind of behavior.

Naruto pouts petulantly but bows down to the law. Excellent.

"Mary-nee, why does the cat get human food?" he decides to change the subject.

"Because he likes it." I answer truthfully.

"But he's a cat and cats get cat food!” the brat exclaims with a firm nod, convinced of his own logic. “Don't they?" he finishes in a way that means he expects me to agree. I manage to give a solemn nod in return.

"Most of the time, yes,” I confirm. Logic like that needs to be rewarded even when talking about metaphorical cats. “However, cats, and stray cats in particular, are an odd and curious breed,” I continue with a smile that really wants to turn into a grin. I manage to prevent that from happening. If I grin, Naruto will think that I’m making fun of him, and I can’t have that. I’m telling him the truth after all. “They act in ways difficult, sometimes even impossible to understand. And this specific cat likes human food."

Though he dislikes sweet or fried things. Picky bastard.

Naruto squints at the untouched dinner on the coffee table, considering something so deeply I can hear his brain work overtime.

"...How can the cat use chopsticks?"

I laugh, caught off guard in the best of ways. The brat is adorable.

"Nee-chan!" he exclaims, offended at my reaction.

"I've never seen him eat, so I don’t know how he does it." I answer with a grin I can no longer contain. As expected, Naruto gives me a suspicious look, trying to determine whether I’m telling the truth or making fun of him.

"But you leave chopsticks! That means you think he eats with chopsticks!" he accuses instead of blindly saying that I’m making fun of him. His skill at logical reasoning has improved with leaps and bounds lately. I’m so proud.

"I do indeed leave chopsticks,” I confirm with an admittedly awful attempt at a solemn nod, given that I’m unable to stop grinning. “But I do that because, well, if the cat likes human food, maybe he also likes eating the human way. It’s only polite to give him the option."

Naruto's confusion is hilarious. Then he shrugs and _accepts_ this. I lean over to ruffle his hair.

My brat really is the cutest of them all.

* * *

 

**_I have a request._ **

_Oh?_

**_Can you trick the brat into thinking a real cat broke in again?_ **

_Can, yes. Will, perhaps. I’m going to need more information before agreeing to anything._

**_Isn’t he hilarity of the brat’s reaction incentive enough?_ **

_It would be, if that was your only reason for asking._

Should’ve known it wouldn’t be that easy. Not that I’m desperate to hide the main reason for asking this, but given his allergy to mush feelings, I’m betting he won’t be pleased with it.

Oh well. He’s the one who asked.

**_He missed you._ **

As expected, the note doesn’t teleport. I knew this would make his allergies act up.

I patiently wait for him to answer. Yet when the expected time passes and the note still hasn’t moved, I can’t help but become a little worried. Apparently his allergies are stronger than expected. I honestly didn't think the brat missing him to prompt a reaction as severe as this.

I’m starting to fear that he might’ve actually left. It’s rare for that to happen, but every time it has, it’s been prompted by the appearance of mushy feelings. I really hope that he’s still here instead. I also really hope that he’ll agree to do this.

Naruto truly has missed him. Not that he was suffering while the bastard was gone, but he’d perked up every time I started making dinner, and he always turned so disappointed when I didn’t put a meal aside. It would’ve been funny how much the bastard’s absence was affecting him if it wasn’t so heartbreaking.

Tonight, Naruto had lit up when he’d realized ‘the cat’ was back. It had even been enough to pull him out of his difficult mood. For a little while, at least.

Given that the bastard is going to be gone more often than not, having another encounter with the cat would mean the world to him.

When the note finally teleport, I immediately snatch it up.

_I suppose I could be persuaded to indulge your request._

I grin, so happy his allergies didn’t win out.

**_Your generosity knows no bounds._ **

_I wouldn’t go that far. Like I said, I need to be persuaded first._

**_Any suggestion on how to do that?_ **

“I’m sure I’ll be able to come up with something.”

* * *

 

"Why do you keep saying that?" It’s an idle question.

"Because it's the truth." I point out the obvious. He chuckles.

"But why the word insane? My feelings are hurt."

"Poor you."

His fingers kept stroking down my back, his callouses rough but his touch so very gentle. A delicious contrast perfect after the previous heat and urgency.

"No reason at all?"

I smile, amused and in the mood to elaborate, courtesy of many happy hormones.

"It's mostly meant in the way I sometimes have real trouble understanding the way you think. You see the world in such a strange way."

He halts his caressing. Apparently I've managed to surprise him. Go me.

Honestly though, having true magic at your command? Screwing the very laws of physics? A life of constant secrecy and battle?

No wonder ninja are insane.

" _I_ see the world in a strange way?" he demands, more incredulous than I’ve ever heard him be.

"And that right there is why I call you insane." It really is. The bastard can’t even imagine not living like that.

His fingers resume their lazy caressing. I feel like purring with contentment.

"No really, I?"

I laugh.

"Alright, convince me. Why is my way of thinking stranger than yours? As a writer I need to know. Characterization is key to any good story after all." This should be good.

"You are sleeping with your surveillance watch. You have been for months. Without knowing what he looks like."

Oh he walked right into that one.

"And you were the one who started it."

His laugh is startled in a way it’s only been a handful of times. Another point to me. I shift my arms more comfortably beneath my pillow and cuddle a little closer to him. The feeling of his warm skin against mine is delicious.

"Still. Surveillance watch. Months. Never seen."

"This must really be bothering you," I realize with growing delight. It’s so rare for him to be genuinely bothered by something.

He continues his gentle caressing and doesn’t reply. I’m so right about this bothering him. I chuckle and decide to be nice.

"Unlike ninja, I believe in respecting people’s privacy. As long as you aren’t hurting me, you can be as insane as your paranoid little heart desires. Though I’ll admit that the mind blowing orgasms make it a lot easier to deal with your many quirks."

His caressing reaches my neck, making me relax even further.

Honestly though, it’s true. He might be an insane bastard, but he’s never hurt me, or anyone I care about. He’s never made me feel unsafe either. And he could. So easily.

He never has.

The bastard is a good friend. With very nice benefits.

The least I can do is respect his quirks in return.

“You don’t mind just because you’re being bribed with sex?" he quips like the question isn’t important. The very fact that he’s still on the subject betrays that it is.

Really, he’s acting like I’m the one who initiated the anonymity clause.

"You're overthinking this,” I inform him. “Some things are simple. Such as the fact that two people who have brain melting sex experience much mutual pleasure.”

"You are shameless." He sounds so very amused.

"Damn straight,” I agree, before taking a moment to think that through. “Well, mostly shameless,” I amend. “I have some very odd buttons that set me off."

In general, I find shame to be overrated. Imagine all the fun I would’ve missed if I had any. Well, if I had much of it.

His fingers gently comb through my hair, making me wish I could purr like a cat. I adore basking in the afterglow with someone.

"Just that simple?"

I smile.

"Just that simple."

 

* * *

 

"How fares your cat?"

My head snaps up– I curse as tea spills across the counter, quickly righting the kettle. Recovering from my shock, I once more look up to meet Itachi’s eyes. His expression is placid as ever, a tranquil gaze meeting my own.

I roll my eyes and put aside the kettle, even as I can’t help the wry twist of my lips. Of course he knows.

"Sasuke told you?" Can’t imagine how else he found out. Then again, ninja.

“Indeed. He was adamant that Naruto must be lying. Sasuke does not believe it possible for a cat to be ‘so sneaky’” The quotation comes through loud and clear. “–that he has only been seen twice.”

I roll my eyes again, even as my smile grows.

“Right,” I say simply, refusing to elaborate. Itachi has the annoying habit of getting a lot more information out of my answers than I like. All ninja do, but Itachi is especially good at it. While I’m aware that my silence is giving him additional information as well, it’s still better than saying something out loud.

“She’s playing a prank on him,” Tori explains. I can’t help but hope that’ll be enough to satisfy Itachi’s curiosity, no matter that I know it won’t be.

“Has been for months now,” Renji agrees with a grin, amused at the brat’s expense. As always, hearing him talk about Naruto like the asshole he is makes a warm glow rise. 

I grab a towel and start cleaning the mess I made, not contributing to the conversation in an effort to keep Itachi at bay.

“Indeed. I believe Sasuke first started mentioning your cat at the end of October.”

The effort was in vain.

Tori giggles. “More specifically, the prank started– oh. Oh!” Tori’s stunned exclamation is followed by bright laughter. Damn it, she knows. “It’s not a prank, it’s–”

She falls silent abruptly. Even without looking at her, I know she’s giving Itachi a telling glance.

Renji laughs like the asshole he is when he figures it out as well. I’m never going to hear the end of this.

“Seriously? Your cat?”

Renji’s glee comes through loud and clear. I give in to the inevitable and look up with a resigned scowl. Renji’s grin is even more gleeful than it sounded.

“It fits,” I retort, and curse myself for the defensive way that came out.

Renji’s grin manages to become even wider.

“You always did have a weakness for strays.”

“Excuse you, I have a weakness for cuteness,” I correct in a flat voice, not amused by his teasing.

Well. Maybe I’m a little amused.

“So you think he’s cute?” Renji twists my words, looking like the cat that ate the canary. The similarities with Rukia are undeniable at times like these.

I glare to show just how unwelcome his teasing is. Naturally, Renji’s grin grows even more satisfied.

“Wait, wait, wait,” Tori interrupts in a voice dancing with merriment, drawing both our attention. “Naruto saw him? As in, he saw– a cat?” she corrects with another glance at Itachi.

Itachi, of course, doesn’t react in the slightest. He’s amazing at acting like he didn’t investigate this whole thing for his own amusement. I suppose I should be grateful Shisui isn’t with him, a rare occurrence indeed. Shisui would’ve never shut up about this. His absence also means that Itachi didn’t tell him about the bastard, another thing to be grateful for. In Konoha, not sharing gossip is the greatest courtesy anyone can give.

“Saw is a bit of an exaggeration,” I give in to their questioning, and can’t help but grin just from recalling what happened. “He spotted a moving shadow and felt fur brush his leg.”

Just like last time, the brat had been over the moon. He hasn’t been able to shut up about his encounter with ‘the cat’ since then. While his inability to keep quiet did lead to the reveal of who the cat is to my friends, I can’t feel even the slightest bit of regret.

Not when Naruto has been a literal ball of sunshine ever since.

Renji shakes his head wryly.

“I can’t believe you actually managed to, ah. Tame a stray cat,” he delivers like the metaphor is supposed to be the height of genius, before he wags his brows in the most ridiculous of ways.

“It is not so surprising. You are an exemplary guardian to Naruto, after all.”

Itachi’s monotone quip draws all our attention. Given that the cat is officially out of the bag so to speak, I raise a sarcastic brow.

“I’m so happy you approve.” Seriously, I managed to keep the whole cat thing secret for months, and with just a few well placed sentences, Itachi has ruined it. On purpose. Because it amuses him.

My reply makes Itachi’s lips twitch with amusement. Damn ninja.

“And those two things are related because...” Renji drawls, making Itachi turn his gaze towards him.

"Many couples first attempt taking care of a pet to see if they are capable of raising a child together." His gaze slides towards Tori. "Have you considered getting a pet?"

Tori _chokes_. I stare.

No. She would've told. Right? Right.

"I'm getting back to work, those numbers won't balance themselves!" Tori flees into the kitchen.

...No. No, she would’ve told. She would have. This is Tori, she always tells.

Still.

I turn towards Renji with a raised brow, silently asking if he knows anything about this.

Renji lets out a long suffering sigh, the act ruined by the fond glance he aims at the kitchen door. He chuckles and gives me a playful wink, before walking towards Hikari and Akira so I can't interrogate him about this further. I grin.

He absolutely does know whether Tori has a new boyfriend or not. Shiro and Rukia, on the other hand, don’t. Those two gossips would’ve never been able to keep it to themselves.

I shake my head. Whether or not she has a new boyfriend, Tori will tell when she’s good and ready. After which I will tease her endlessly for keeping this from us.

I glance at Itachi, who is calmly sipping his tea. As if he didn’t distract those two on purpose. My smile grows.

Despite the fact that he was the one who revealed who my cat is, I’m still grateful for his assistance. Enough that I decide to indulge his curiosity a bit.

"The cat thing really is a prank. And the cat enjoys playing it on Naruto."

Itachi lets out a single chuckle, the greatest show of amusement he can give. With a smile, I change the subject. Having gotten what he wanted, Itachi allows it.

Really, you’d never be able to guess just how mischievous Itachi is from looking at him. Or how nosy.

Ninja.

* * *

 

_I'm bored._

**_Poor you._ **

_Entertain me._

**_Watch as I magically turn these dishes clean again._ **

_And here I thought you were creative._

**_I am._ **

_Not seeing it._

**_Oh look. The bowl has miraculously turned shiny._ **

_I am enthralled._

**_Glad to be of service._ **

"There are other services I'd rather receive."

I let out a startled yelp, completely caught off guard by his appearance. Normally he doesn’t show himself until after Naruto has been put to bed.

He’s lounging against the cupboards right next to me, completely at ease as always. Today his hair is purple and straight.

After a reflexive glance at the bathroom where Naruto is still doing his business, I give him a wry smile. He must really be bored if he's showing up like this.

"Depends on what I get in return."

"Let me offer a small demonstration."

“Really. Now,” I say in in a flat voice while giving the bathroom a pointed look. Given that I just heard the toilet flush, Naruto is about to leave. There’s literally no time for him to do, well, anything.

“I did say it would be small.”

“And just what–” I fall silent as the bathroom opens, my head turning towards it– I shiver as a gloved hand caresses me behind my ear and the barest of shocks light up my nerves in the most delicious of ways, making my gaze snap back towards him.

I’m not surprised in the slightest to find him gone.

“Nee-chan, I’m done!” the brat announces as always, making me grin. It’s hilarious how he feels the need to declare this every single time.

“Good job,” I give my customary reply while grabbing the note and pen, keeping half an eye on Naruto as he sits down and continues his homework.

**_I’m getting the impression that you’re feeling impatient._ **

_Does me being impatient mean you’ll entertain me sooner?_

**_Nope. Patience is a virtue, you know._ **

_Then no, I’m not feeling impatient. Just bored._

**_Allow me to entertain you by continuing my magical show of turning the dishes clean._**

* * *

 

 

I continue exploring the scar crossing his shoulder with one of my hands.

"Why do you never ask?"

The question makes a hoarse snort escape.

"Because for some reason I have this impression that you're not the type who enjoys sharing things about himself,” I say in a voice that makes the dessert seem wet.

He chuckles, the feeling of his laughter beneath my hand a pleasant sensation.

"Not curious?"

"So immensely curious," I admit without hesitation. Who wouldn’t be?

I’m aware that my curiosity is morbid and I don’t care in the slightest. I also don’t ask. It’s one thing to push each other’s buttons, nothing more than harmless teasing. It’s something else entirely to pry at old wounds.

Everyone has scars. No one likes it when they’re picked at uninvited.

"That one was caused by a water jutsu."

I freeze. Then I grin. So hard.

Uninvited is one thing, invited is another. I return to exploring the scar. The scar caused by a  _magical_ water attack.

"Really?" I mean, really? How do you even use water to create a scar like this? It’s not that I don’t believe him, it’s just, well. How?

"Really. Got sliced with a water whip that cut through my armor like it wasn’t even there,” he kindly explains my unspoken question. “It took weeks to get back my full range of mobility.”

No matter that I was the one who asked, I know I would’ve been horrified if he’d told me this at any other time. With the happy hormones coursing through me, I can only laugh. The way he said that is exactly why ninja are insane. He gets sliced up by a magical water whip, and it’s important only in how it affects his ‘range of mobility’.

"I've said it before and I'll say it again. I'll say it again many, many times. Ninja are insane." Because this needs to be said. A lot.

He chuckles. I shake my head with a grin.

I live in a world ruled by magical ninja. And I’m sleeping with one of them. Without knowing his name, or even what he looks like.

How is this my life?

* * *

 

I continue pretending to read, but in reality I’m keeping an amused eye on the proceedings happening by the coffee table.

"Stop fidgeting."

"She's taking too long."

"It's supposed to take this long."

"She's _still_ stirring, she–"

"Sakura is doing it perfectly. We were taught this in kunoichi class, you don't get those, so you can’t tell if she’s taking too long or not. I _can_ ," Ino declares, and actually flips her hair, daring Sasuke to disagree with her. Sasuke crosses his arms with annoyance and an adorable pout, but he keeps quiet.

It’s amazing how well Ino is already capable of making people bow down to her every whim. She’s going to be terrifying after she grows up.

Meanwhile, the brat keeps ignoring their argument, instead watching with starry eyes as Sakura continues to stir the tea just so. She finally puts down the chasen and very carefully fills one cup. She gives it the correct number of turns and turns a shy gaze towards the others. She hesitates, before she picks up the cup.

And offers it to Naruto.

I can actually see the brat's heartbeat stutter, his cheeks bursting into flames as he gains a small smile that still manages to outshine the sun itself. He accepts the offering as though it’s the most precious thing in the entire world, looking at his crush as though she just hung up the moon and the stars. It makes Sakura’s cheeks turn rosy and lower her gaze with embarrassment, but she’s smiling with bashful delight as well.

I lift my book a little higher to hide my grin and somehow manage to contain the laughter that wants to break free. This will never ever get old.

It’s a shame that the bastard isn’t around to enjoy this.

* * *

 

I stare at the scene before me with utter shock.

"My eyes!"

Rukia’s horrified exclamation reboots my brain. I close the jaw that apparently fell open without my notice.

"It's not what it looks like!" Renji actually tries to deny while pulling up his pants, wide eyes locked onto his sister.

"What?” Tori exclaims indignantly, halting the straightening of her skirt. “What do you mean by that?"

When the hell did this happen?

"How long has this been going on?" I demand without thought, still trying and failing to process the obvious. I glance at the people besides me to check if they’re seeing the same hallucination I am.

They are. Well, one of them is. Shiro is staring at Renji and Tori with the blankest of expressions, his version of being stunned with shock.

Rukia has covered her eyes with her hands, every part of her radiating pure horror.

"Are you denying this? Us?" Tori’s demand draws my attention back to the impossibility happening in front of me. This time my shock starts to make way for amusement.

“No, I just–”

“My eyes!” Rukia wails once more, interrupting Renji before he can recover from the grave mistake of trying to deny the obvious.

"Why didn't you tell us?" I ask, feeling a grin start to grow. This is just perfect.

Once more, my question is ignored.

"Are you ashamed of me?" Tori demands, glaring at Renji and completely ignoring that her blouse is still wide open.

"No!" he denies in a hilariously panicked voice, gaze flickering between Tori and Rukia, rattled in a way I’ve never seen him be.

"I can never unsee this, _never_ ,” Rukia swears, still not daring to uncover her eyes.

"And the counter?” I ask, barely managing to resist the urge to laugh. “Really?"

I never could’ve imagined they’d do something this unhygienic. I never could’ve imagined they’d do something like this at all, but especially not here of all places.

"Then what's with the denial?" Tori demands, still ignoring anyone but Renji.

Renji scowls, finally starting to recover from his panic.

"Excuse me for not wanting my sister to catch us in the act."

* * *

 

_I'm back._

**_Renji and Tori are a thing._ **

_Since shortly after the beginning of the new year._

**_That long? Those assholes. Want to help me work off my frustration?_ **

"I thought you'd never ask."

I don’t even have time to turn around before my surroundings turn into a blur.

* * *

 

Wow.

Mind a fraction clearer.

Wow.

Trying to catch my breath.

I mean _wow_.

Sounds of rustling fabric. There’s something wrong with that. I just can’t figure out what.

With a huge amount of effort, I manage to focus through the tsunami of happy hormones.

I’m alone on the bed.

What?

"You're leaving?" The bastard always stays a while ever since the blindfold has gotten involved. This... this isn't good.

He doesn’t answer, but I keep hearing the sound of shifting clothing. He has to be doing that deliberately, because I swear the bastard moves more quietly the further he relaxes.

What happened on his mission? No, I won’t ask, I will _never_ ask. Because he’s a ninja, a soldier, a trained assassin. Because his life is full of violence and danger. Full of pain and loss. I don’t have the right to pry at his wounds.

He wouldn't let me even if I did.

However, the bastard is a friend. I have the right to be worried. I also have the right to offer comfort.

"...Tomorrow's Sunday, the brat doesn't need to be woken up. I also have the afternoon shift." The sounds of rustling fabric halts. "Want to make sure I sleep in late?"

Bare skin pressed against mine, a hand tangled through my hair, tilting back my head. I shiver.

Unconventional, maybe, but the least I can do is offer him a distraction from whatever is haunting him. I don’t know whether I’m going to praise or regret this decision in the morning.

Lips trailing down my shoulder, gentle and soft.

He bites down _hard_ , flirting with the very edge of true pain. I let out a strangled moan.

Probably going to be both.

* * *

 

“Nee-chan, are you even listening?”

“The bastard is stupid,” I parrot back, the name pulling me out of my musings.

“...Okay. So I said he was being stupid, and then he got angry and told me I can’t do I better, but I can so do better, so I–”

I continue listening to the brat’s chatter with half an ear, occasionally letting out a vaguely interested noise.

Most of me is already worrying about the bastard again.

He didn’t stay beyond that one night. I don’t know whether it’s because he got a new mission, or because he just wants to be alone.

I wish he was still here. Wish I could do something to make him feel better. I probably can’t do more than offer a distraction, but that’s still so much better than doing nothing. I hope he returns soon. It’s only been four days, but already it feels so much longer.

I’m pretty sure that time will continue to slow down with every day that passes. I get that he might want to be alone for awhile, I really do, and of course he should stay away for as long as he needs to, but...

But I have to know that he’s alright. Or at least, that he’s getting better.

I won’t be able to stop worrying until I do.

* * *

 

"What's gotten your head in the clouds this time?"

"I'm just wondering how I could've missed the fact that you and Tori have been hooking up right under our noses for months," I tease with a faint grin. 

Renji rolls his eyes, not amused by me bringing up this fact yet again. Tough luck. I wasn't exaggerating about endlessly teasing Tori for keeping this from us.

The fact that I can endlessly tease Renji about it as well truly is an perfect bonus. It also offers a delightful opportunity to take revenge for his own inability to stop teasing me about the bastard.

"There's a reason we kept quiet about it, you know."

"It's just so obvious now," I continue, cheerfully ignoring his own words. "You suddenly getting along with Naruto, Tori almost singing at work. How did I miss the fact that you're both getting regularly laid? And how did I fail to realize you're getting laid with each other?"

"Simple. You're astonishingly oblivious in some ways," he answers my rhetorical question.

Once more, I cheerfully ignore his words.

"That's not even mentioning all the times you two had mysterious plans that just happened to take place at the same time." I shake my head with a smile more mocking than rueful. "How could I have been so blind?"

"By being astonishingly oblivious," he mocks back with an annoyed look, but there's a hint of a smile tugging at his lips as well. Only a hint, though.

"Really, how could you two keep this from us?" I ask without bothering to contain my grin.

"Very easily."

"And here I thought we were friends."

The annoyed sigh he lets out just makes my grin grow.

"If you're going to be like this, I'm going to help Tori with the inventory."

"Is that the only thing you're going to be helping her with?" I pounce on the opening. Renji rolls his eyes and flees into the kitchen without bothering to come up with another retort. I chuckle.

Revenge is sweet.

My mood quickly drops again now that he's gone, though. I sigh.

I lied, Renji's relationship with Tori isn't what has me so distracted. Well, it does have me a little distracted, more than a little actually, but for the most part, I just...

I can't stop worrying about him.

* * *

 

 _I’m back_.

And I’m so happy he is. I’ve been worried out of my mind about him. The past eighteen days have been some of the longest of my entire life.

Seeing as he won’t like to hear that I’ve been so worried about him, I pick a safer topic to talk about.

**_The brat tried to prank Iruka again. Unfortunately, he failed._ **

_Well, he is just an academy student._

I narrow my eyes, worry joined by indignity.

**_And what’s that supposed to mean?_ **

Is he saying that Naruto is incapable of pranking Iruka? Do I need to remind him that the brat has already succeeded once? So what if he failed this time. He’ll get Iruka next time.

_It means there’s a significant gap in skill between him and an experienced chuunin._

**_Need I remind you that he’s already succeeded in pranking him once?_ **

_And I was very impressed by that. Doesn’t change the fact that he’s going to fail a lot more often than not from now on. He’s lost the element of surprise._

**_So what, he should just give up? He’s clever and determined. He’ll find new ways to trick Iruka._ **

_I didn’t say he should give up. This is good training for him. He just shouldn’t expect to succeed every time. Or even most of the time. He’s not exactly a prodigy._

Oh hell no, he did _not_ just insult my brat like that.

**_One day you will eat those words. He’s going to be the most amazing ninja there ever was or will be._ **

And it has nothing to do with him being the main character. Naruto is a little genius. An unconventional one, true, but a little genius nonetheless.

_So defensive. I’m even sensing some real hostility._

I roll my eyes. Like he didn’t provoke me on purpose.

I’m so glad he’s back to his usual bastard self.

**_Your powers of observation will never cease to amaze me._ **

“I can think of a few more ways to amaze you.”

After my usual violent twitch, I turn around with an unimpressed look. Admittedly, the effect is ruined by my inability to contain a smile.

Today his hair is brown and spiky.

“After insulting the brat like that, I’m not inclined to be impressed by anything you do.”

“Allow me to try to make you reconsider that opinion.”

* * *

 

“What do you suggest he should do?”

“Hmm?” His hum is laze and satisfied. I continue tracing the small scar on the inside of his thigh. His own hand is gently gliding down my hip.

“Naruto. Do you have any advice for future pranks?” I clarify. Mostly I’m no longer bothered by his slight against the brat, but even the happy hormones aren’t enough to make me let go of it completely.

If he has the nerve to insult my brat, the least he can do is offer some advice on how to improve.

“Team up with at least one other person,” he answers without hesitation, a pleasant surprise. Given his previous behavior, I thought he was going to keep being a bastard about this. For a little while, at least.

It’s also great advice. Why didn’t I think of this myself?

“He’ll definitely be able to get Sasuke to join. He just needs to make it a dare and Sasuke won’t be able to resist,” I muse out loud. Sakura and Ino will be more tricky, though. “Sakura, I’m not sure. She doesn’t like to break the rules, but at the same time, she does enjoy the chaos of Naruto’s pranks. It’ll depend on what Ino decides. And knowing Ino, she won’t agree without the brat offering some kind of bribe.”

Well, bribe is a strong word. She’ll probably demand an unspecified favor to be paid somewhere in the future. Ino is is already frighteningly shrewd like that.

“With four to one, their odds of success improve immensely. Depending on their strategy of course. Without a good one, they’ll still fail,” he delivers like there’s no chance that Naruto will be able to come up with anything even remotely decent.

“I’m sure the brat will come up with something amazing,” I say in a warning tone. I will _not_ allow him to insult the brat again.

“He’s not exactly subtle.” The bastard ignores my warning completely. I scrape my nails down his thigh, hard. Sudden goosebumps break out on his arm, the only indicator of him being affected.

It had taken me a _lot_ of time to realize that goosebumps are a sign of him being ticklish.

“He’s creative,” I retort, scowling in his general direction.

“He’s glaringly obvious. Even you aren’t as transparent.”

I try to scrape my nails down his thigh again, but this time his hand captures my own before I can. When I lift my other hand to take vengeance anyway, sudden movement prevents me from succeeding. After working through my disorientation, I realize that I’m sitting on his lap and that he’s holding his hands captive behind my back.

“It’s not nice to take advantage of someone’s vulnerable state like that,” he chides like he didn’t provoke me on purpose. Again.

“It’s not nice to act like a bastard either, but that’s never stopped you,” I retort, my faint annoyance joined by much less faint anticipation.

The anticipation is obliterated when he pokes my ribs, making me yelp with involuntary laughter, a reaction I can never help despite the fact that there’s nothing funny about this _at all_. I _despise_ being tickled. Which the bastard knows, so why the hell is he doing this? This is one of the worst mood killers there is.

“I will kick you out, don’t think I won’t,” I warn with a fierce glare, not caring in the slightest that the effect is ruined by the blindfold.

“That would require you to be able to kick me,” he patronizes like the bastard he is.

Taking up the challenge, I try to do just that, despite the difficulty of doing so in my current position.

Naturally, the bastard rolls us over, trapping my legs with his own and holding my hands captive above my head.

“My, aren’t we violent today,” he says, not bothering to hide just how funny he thinks my reaction is. Bastard.

“My, aren’t we annoying today,” I counter, even as I can’t help but feel amusement as well. He really is in a mood. A very difficult one.

Despite the fact that it’s at my expense, I’m relieved. This is so much better than his previous absence.

I’m glad he’s managed to mostly recover from whatever was haunting him. Mostly.

He has a new scar. It’s low on his stomach, a thin cut I don’t know the exact size of.

He moved my hand away when I tried to trace it.

“I’m feeling so attacked right now,” he declares with mock hurt.

“Poor you.”

He pokes my ribs again, obliterating all traces of relief. That complete and utter bastard.

“Tickle me again and you can kiss any chance of another round goodbye.”

“Is that a challenge?”

Oh hell no.

“It’s a fact,” I snap because I _will_ kick him out if he dares to do it again. I’m not exaggerating in the slightest about this being a mood killer.

I tense up completely when I feel his hand caress my ribs.

He wouldn’t.

I yelp with laughter that isn’t funny at all because he would, oh, he absolutely would, that complete and utter _bastard_.

“You absolute bastard,” I curse through helpless laughter, trying and failing to get free and he’s _still_ tickling me and I swear I am going to hurt him _so much_.

He halts his assault with a laugh, only enraging me further.

“Get off me!”

The words have barely left my mouth before both his weight and the blindfold are gone. I’m left blinking rapidly as I try to adjust to the sudden return of my sight, before sitting up and looking around.

He’s gone. Of course he is.

I drop back down my pillow with a groan. Yes, I would’ve kicked him out anyway, but him leaving of his own free will ruins the any trace of satisfaction I would’ve felt from doing it myself. Which is why he did it of course. Bastard.

I can already tell this visit is going to be his most annoying one yet.

As long as it means he's no longer hurting, I can live with that.

* * *

 

“Is something the matter?”

“He’s being a bastard.” I blink with surprise as I realize what I just said. Huh. Apparently he’s annoying me more than I thought if I’m actually willing to talk about it. And I already considered myself to be incredibly annoyed indeed.

Insulting the brat and tickling me was just the tip of the iceberg. He’s only gotten worse since then.

“I’m intrigued. What could he have done to break your reluctance to talk about him?” Shiro returns with a raised brow and slightly upturned lips, more than a little amused at my uncharacteristic behavior.

“He had the nerve to call the ending _predictable_.” Just saying the words out loud is enough to make me scowl. That bastard, daring to say that it’s _obvious_ that Mulan is going to win. Newsflash, that’s the entire point of the story! I write fantasy, not tragedy.

“How dare he.”

“I know!” I agree, ignoring the fact that Shiro isn’t sympathetic in the slightest. He’s a good friend however, and so he allows me to rant in peace. And because he finds it amusing to see me like this. “He said it was _obvious_ she was going to win, that there was no suspense! No suspense. You know how I long I worked on that finale? I already had to rewrite the entire thing because of demon editor from hell, and now I’m going to have to rewrite it again because of that complete and utter _bastard_. I swear, if he doesn’t watch himself, I am going to hurt him _so much_.”

The only, and I do mean the _only_ reason I’m willing to give him a pass this time is because I know he’s acting like this because he still affected by whatever happened to him. But I swear, if he dares to criticize my plot or characters again, I _will_ hurt him. As I’ve warned him in the strongest of terms.

Here’s to hoping he doesn’t take my warning as a dare.

Given that it’s the bastard, I’m already planning out my future revenge in explicit detail.

* * *

 

I enter the apartment, place my precious cargo in a pot and close the lid, before I walk to the brat's room and put my ear against the door. I hear some faint noises. Naruto is still inside. Good.

I sigh and rub my eyes, before I start pacing in an effort to calm down.

It doesn’t work.

With a groan I drop down the couch and bury my face in a pillow.

Just... pffft.

When I feel paper materialize on my hand, I lift my head with a glare.

That complete and utter bastard.

I genuinely can’t tell if the fact that he stayed makes everything worse or not. I also can’t tell if I even want to know what he’s said or not.

Doesn’t stop me from opening the note.

_That was extreme._

The words inspire is the most derisive scoff I’ve ever let out. You don't say.

For a few moments, I give some serious thought to just start ranting out loud to him. Except no matter how much I want to do that, I know that’ll only get me even more worked up, and I’m trying to calm down. Worse, raising my voice might draw Naruto out of his room.

I _really_ don’t want to see the brat right now.

Not after the things he said.

I sigh and grab the conveniently nearby pen that appeared together with the note, before I change my position on the couch, spreading the paper flat across my knees. If I don’t press too hard, I can write like this.

**_I'm overreacting. I know I am._ **

Doesn’t stop me from feeling absolutely gutted. And pissed off. So _unbelievably_ pissed off.

I don’t fold the paper, keep it spread open across my knees instead. I’m not going to make this easy for him.

His reply appears as if drawn by an invisible hand. Bastard.

_Glad to see you still have perspective._

I scowl, unable to believe he has the nerve to act like the bastard he is even after pulling something like _this_.

With a groan, I bring up a hand to rub my eyes, ignoring his words and trying to look at this objectively. This is normal, unavoidable. I've known something like this would happen the moment I took Naruto in. I know it’s going to happen again. Because this is normal.

**_It's not that bad. It isn't._ **

More magically appearing text.

_Keep going._

I let out another sigh, but force myself to keep thinking this through and write it down. Not for him, for myself. To help me work through it.

**_It's not like it's the end of the world. It was just a normal, if vehement argument. The kind that's unavoidable._ **

_Exactly._

At least he’s trying to offer comfort in his own twisted way. Though after what he did, that’s literally the bare _minimum_ he should do. Still, while it doesn’t make me any less angry with him, putting it all on paper does help me feel a little less gutted.

**_He's just a brat, a child. This is normal._ **

Of course it’s normal. Naruto is six years old. Things like this happen. Because this is normal.

_It is._

A brat, he’s just a brat.

**_I shouldn't be hurt by this._ **

I am. So much.

_Of course not. He didn't mean any of it._

**_He didn't. I know he didn't._ **

But hearing my brat say such things? God, it _hurts_.

_If it helps, he's feeling incredibly guilty right now._

While I’d already guessed that, getting confirmation of the fact is still nice to my sense of vengeance. Irrational and petty, yes, but right now I’ll take anything I can get.

**_Really?_ **

_I can literally hear him angst._

I can’t help the wry quirk of my lips. Of course he can.

**_That does make me feel a little better._ **

_He's also working very hard on transforming his second favorite frog plush into... I'm not sure what exactly, but it involves scissors, socks and paint. And a fair amount of glue._

_Why_ does he tell me things like this, yet not– because he's a bastard.

**_See, knowing this, I now feel I should intervene._ **

_I don't know, it would be a poetic apology._

I snort. True. And I still don’t want to see the brat. Not until I finish calming down. That’s going to take a while.

But first I need to deal with the bastard.

**_Why didn't you tell me?_ **

No, seriously. Why?

_Because this was hilarious. And he was taking surprisingly good care of it. Three days and it was still alive, hadn’t expected that. Also didn’t expect him to be able to keep it hidden this long._

Because he's a bastard.

**_Don't do it again. He got attached._ **

_You're right, he did._

A complete and utter _bastard_.

**_You so wouldn't change your decision, even if you could._ **

_Surprisingly, I'm feeling a little guilty._

How astonishing.

**_Your capacity to feel is a true marvel._ **

_Thank you. Honestly though, I didn’t expect the blowout to be quite this spectacular._

Of course he didn’t. Because he’s an insane bastard.

 **_Six year olds and secret pets are_ ** **_Very Serious Business_** ** _._ **

_Noted._

I glare at his reply. That bastard is actually going to avoid the issue, isn’t he? Of course he is, because he's a complete and utter _bastard_.

I’m not going to let him get away with this.

 **_Just in case it somehow isn’t abundantly clear, I am utterly, absolutely,_ ** **_unbelievably_** **_pissed off at you._ **

_Even a blind civilian would see that._

**_Good._ **

"Want me to apologize?"

After recovering from my violent twitch, I turn around to find him standing in his usual spot, lounging against the wall with his arms crossed, completely at ease as always.

Today his hair is orange and short.

"No,” I snap, barely remembering the need to keep my voice down and unable to believe the nerve of him. He’s acting like he didn’t do anything wrong! Like he isn’t a complete and utter _bastard_. “You do _not_ get orgasms after pulling something like this.”

He actually dares to let out a sigh like I’m the one who’s overreacting. It’s a good thing he’s keeping his distance because I’m feeling a genuine urge to kick him in the balls. I don’t know whether I’d be able to resist if he came any closer.

The fact that I know I would miss no matter how much I try just pisses me off even more.

"I'll let you know if he sneaks one in again,” he offers like it’s supposed to be the greatest of concessions. I have to close my eyes, dropping my head down the couch as exasperation rises alongside my anger. That’s not a concession, it’s literally the least he should do.

Except this is the bastard. This is the guy who stalks us whenever he feels like it, who comes and goes as he pleases. Who shows up with nothing but the expectation of food, banter and orgasms. The person who pushes all my buttons for no other reason than that it amuses him.

I lift my head. He’s still seems completely at ease, radiating nothing but idle interest. Acting like no matter what I decide to do next, it doesn’t matter to him one way or another. I feel a helpless smile grow.

The bastard is such a damn _cat_.

"It's a start,” I say, and we both know it means that I forgive him. I forgive him because he promised this won’t happen again. Because he honestly regrets causing this. Because he's truly feeling guilty.

He wouldn’t still be here if he wasn't.

The bastard, in his own insane way, is trying to make up. I accept the olive branch.

Though if he ever breaks his word, I will hurt him. So much _._

"And do you have any further suggestions on how to earn your forgiveness?" he returns, sounding like his usual playful self, no sign whatsoever that he cares about my forgiveness one way or another. I feel a thoughtful frown grows at this very interesting offer. While I’ve already forgiven him and he knows it, that doesn’t mean I’m not entitled to make him grovel.

Because all of this is _his_ fault. So how exactly should I handle this?

...That would work.

“Of course, you'd have follow my every command _exactly_.”

 

He chuckles.

"I might be willing to go along. This time."

I snort.

"This is going to be more than just one time."

"Oh?"

"This is going to be many, many times, because all of this could've been avoided if _you_ had told _the instant_ you noticed that frog. You have a lot of groveling to do,” I say with a glare to emphasize how dead serious I am about this.

He straightens with his usual impossible grace.

"Best get to it then."

“Hell no,” I immediately deny with another glare. This is _not_ an appropriate time for this. “You are going to get lost until I finish dealing with Naruto, and then I expect to find you in my bedroom, ready to do whatever I tell you.”

Just saying the words out loud is enough to make giddy anticipation start to rise. Having an elite ninja obey my every command? This is going to be _so much fun_.

But first I need to deal with the brat.

“As the lady commands,” he quips, before vanishing in the blink of an eye. I roll my eyes, even as I can’t help a wry smile.

Ninja.

My mood drops as I turn my gaze towards Naruto’s bedroom. I sigh.

Best get this over with.

Taking a deep breath, I get up, walk towards the door and knock on the wood.

“Brat? Can I come in?”

“No!”

I grimace. The yell was almost panicked, but was it panicked because he doesn’t want me to see whatever he’s doing to his plush, or because he’s still angry with me?

Please, please, _please_ don’t let him still be angry with me.

“I just want to talk,” I say, my voice coming out smaller than intended.

After what feels like an eternity, I hear footsteps come closer. The door cracks open, hesitant and fearful eyes meeting my own. Shattering my heart into a thousand pieces.

“Hey, brat,” I murmur, the only thing I can think of to say.

Naruto’s bottom lip trembles and tears fill his eyes, grinding the remaining fragments of my heart into dust. He launches himself forward and strangles my legs like weed.

“I’m sorry, Mary-nee, I’m sorry! I didn’t mean it! I don’t hate you! I love you! I love you so much, love you the most and I didn't mean it, I really didn't! I love you!”

I close my own eyes, feeling misty-eyed as well. Which is completely ridiculous. I already knew he didn’t mean it.

Doesn’t make me any less relieved to hear him say it.

“I love you too, Naruto,” I say while bending down and so I can hug him. His arms release my legs so he can strangle my neck instead.

I don’t care about the uncomfortable tightness in the slightest.

He sniffles, tears continuing to stream down his face.

“You promise?” he asks.

“I promise," I assure him, my voice coming out more choked up than intended.

Naruto buries his head down my shoulder and starts crying in earnest. While part of me desperately wants him to stop, I know he needs the release. So I hum a meaningless tune, rubbing his back as his tears soak through my shirt.

It takes an excruciating amount of time, but eventually, Naruto stops crying.

“Feeling better now?” I murmur.

“Yes,” he whispers, before lifting his head and giving me an anxious look. “What about you, nee-chan? Do you feel better?”

I smile.

“I do,” I say truthfully. Much of it is caused by pure relief at having Naruto stop crying at last, but that doesn’t change the fact that I do feel better.

I started feeling better the instant he apologized.

Naruto lets out a loud sigh of relief, before giving tentative smile back.

“I’m really sorry, nee-chan,” he repeats, soothing me further.

“So am I. I shouldn’t have spoken so harshly,” I apologize as well. While I don’t regret my decision to take his pet away per se, I do regret the way I went about it. I should’ve been kinder.

“...Did you make sure Gama-chan’s new home is nice?” Naruto asks, his voice smaller than I’ve ever known it to be. Hurt in a way that makes guilt drown out all else.

Luckily, I know how to fix that.

“Naruto, do you understand why I took him away?” I ask instead of answering his question. I will answer it of course, but there are a few other issues I need to get out of the way first.

“...Because you don’t like frogs?”

I snort.

“No, that’s not why I took him away,” I say, rubbing his back as his own embrace starts to tighten with fear again. “I took him away because taking care of a pet requires a lot of responsibility. You have to buy him a nice place to live in, keep that place clean, never forget to feed him, and you need to know what he does and doesn’t like when playing with him.”

“I was taking good care of him!”

“You _think_ you were taking good care of him,” I correct, because this is a very important distinction. “Have you read any books on how to take care of frogs? Not stories, I’m talking about boring books,” I clarify when Naruto opens his mouth to claim he has so read books on how to take care of frogs.

“There are _boring_ books about frogs?” he returns like I just told him the moon is made of cheese. His incredulous disbelief makes me grin.

“There are.” That’s what the brat calls any book that isn’t a story, after all. “And those boring books tell you how to take good care of them.”

“...I really was taking good care of him,” the brat mutters sullenly, hiding his face down my shoulder again.

“If you want to have a frog,” I say, making Naruto’s head snap up with wide eyes. “You have to read those boring books, buy him a nice place to live in from your own pocket money, and you need to take care of him on your own. I’ll help at first, but I expect you to take care of him on your own eventually. If you start neglecting him, I _will_ take him away.”

That condition is not negotiable. I was shamefully neglectful of my own pets when I was a kid, and I will not allow him to make the same mistake.

“You’re giving me a frog?” Naruto whispers like he can’t believe what he’s hearing.

“I’m telling you the conditions you need to fulfill if you want to have one,” I clarify, giving him a grave look to impress just how serious I am about this. “Are you going to fulfill them?”

“ _Yes!_ ” Naruto squeals at a high enough volume to make me wince. His proximity to my ears makes it even more painful than usual. “I will, I _promise_ I will, I’ll read every book, and I’ll buy him the nicest home, and I’ll feed him every day! I’ll the the bestest care of him _forever_.”

“You better,” I warn, but can’t help but smile when faced with blinding sunshine such as this.

“I _promise_ , Mary-nee, promise, promise, promise!” the brat vows, somehow managing to beam even brighter.

“Good,” I say, before shifting my grip so I can pick him up. “In that case, I have something for you,” I tell him while walking towards where I placed the pot.

“What, nee-chan?” Naruto ask, still outshining the sun itself.

Instead of answering verbally, I lift the lid from the pot.

Naruto actually stops breathing.

“ _Gama-chan_.” The whisper shout is as awed as it is disbelieving. When Naruto manages to tear his gaze away from his beloved pet, the sheer joy radiating from him enough to melt my heart. “You didn’t take him away.”

I almost had. I’d planned to, went downstairs with it to release it back into the wilds. I didn’t want to reward the brat breaking the rules like this by allowing him to keep it.

I changed my mind at the last second. I just couldn’t bring myself to hurt him like that.

I’m so glad for my weakness.

“No, I didn't take him away. But I will if you don’t take good care of him,” I remind him, because he needs to understand that I’m not exaggerating about this in the slightest.

Naruto yells with joy and strangles my neck once more.

“I will, I promise I will, I’ll take the bestest care of him forever, dattebayo!”

I laugh, the last of my guilt and hurt fading away. Closing the pot again to prevent Gama-chan from escaping, I hug the brat back.

“Make sure you do,” I warn again, but the effect is ruined by the warm tone I can’t contain.

“I love you, Mary-nee! You’re the best nee-chan ever!”

My smile manages to grow even bigger, feeling mushy and warm all over. While I’m definitely not looking forward to the inevitable future fights we’re going to have, I won’t deny that making up like this is an amazing rush.

Hopefully making up with the bastard will be just as pleasant.

* * *

 

I lazily trail my lips up and down the tiny scar below his wrist, the small movement the only one I’m currently capable of. This was _very_ wow.

Making up with him was incredibly pleasant indeed.

"Always touching and tasting." he teases, more sated than I’ve ever heard him be. I’m so proud of myself.

I grin in his direction.

"Always stalking and talking."

He doesn’t react verbally to the words, but a hand starts gently caressing my arm. I let out a pleased hum and return to tracing the small scar.

“You’re going to have to tone it down, though,” I murmur against his skin. I’m not mad at him anymore, but still. He needs to tone it down. A lot.

I can deal with him being like this for one visit, but if he keeps this up, I’m going to end up insane. Not in a functional way like he is, either.

Naturally, the bastard lets out a long suffering sigh, still acting like I’m the one who’s overreacting.

“I suppose I have been pushing it a little.”

“Only a little?” I return wryly.

“Just a bit,” he confirms like he’s only doing so for my sake and not because he actually agrees with the assessment.

“Then tone it down a bit,” I counter with a smile, amused at his inability to admit any real wrongdoing.

“Is that an order?”

“It is if that’s what it takes for you to tone it down.”

He chuckles.

“As the lady commands.”

I grin. As we’ve just established, him following my commands is very fun indeed. I’m definitely going to milk his apology for all it’s worth.

Judging from his own reaction, he won’t have any problem with that whatsoever.

"Same goes for my stories," I add, taking the opportunity to get it all out of the way. "Criticize my plot again, and I will hurt you. A lot."

"The final fight flows well. The reveal that it was all a distraction to get him in the position she needed to hit him with fireworks was very satisfying," he actually compliments instead of acting like a bastard. He must be really feeling guilty. Good.

At least he's aware just how out of line he's been acting.

"Then why isn't there enough suspense?" I ask, taking advantage of his agreeable mood to get a straight answer. 

This is really bothering me. I'm not surprised by this of course, there's a reason why I hate it when people criticize my stories before they're finished. After they're finished, I can let go of criticism like this, but not before. 

And because of the bastard, I now won't be able to rest until I've managed to fix the lack of suspense.

"I may have been exaggerating a little. It's not that there's no suspense, it's just that the genre makes it obvious that she's going to win. You're not writing tragedy, after all."

"You absolute bastard," I say with utter exasperation, because that answer actually manages to make everything even worse. "You do realize I'm still going to have to rewrite the entire thing, right?"

My brain won't allow me to do anything else. It doesn't matter that there's no real reason to do so anymore, he said there was no suspense, which means I  _need_ to fix this. The fact that he just told me there's nothing to fix, doesn't affect that need in the slightest.

"Not my fault you're unable to deal with friendly advice in a healthy manner."

I shake my head with a helpless smile. He's such a bastard.

"I'm going to make you pay for this next time," I vow, meaning every word, though the effect is ruined by the smile I'm still unable to contain.

"I look forward to seeing what you come up with."

I chuckle.

Making him apologize like this really was a stroke of pure genius.

* * *

 

I sigh deeply, annoyed with the world in general.

“Now that is an amazingly forlorn sigh. I have a feeling that something might be the matter.” There is genuine concern beneath Shisui’s teasing tone. I manage to muster a small smile, trying to reassure him. Shisui doesn’t deserve my bad mood. Especially when I’m pretty sure he was just passing by and only dropped in because of my inability to contain these depressing sighs. It would explain Itachi’s absence.

"Nothing, really. Just one of those days."

"By which she means she's pining over her absent secret admirer." Renji quips as he walks towards Akira to bring his order. I glare at his retreating back.

"A secret admirer, Mari-chan? Why haven't I heard of this before? I thought we were friends,” Shisui says with a playful pout, relieved to find out it isn’t anything more serious. I roll my eyes.

"He's not a secret admirer. Just someone I occasionally exchange notes with." And mind blowing orgasms.

"And by occasionally she means daily." Tori cheerfully adds, before disappearing into the kitchen with some dirty dishes. Ever since they became public, those two have become _so much worse_. Love does strange things to people.

I roll my eyes again as Shisui aims a disbelieving look my way. The entire world is being ridiculous. Including myself.

Honestly, you’d think I would’ve gotten used to him being away by now. There’s no reason for me to feel like this, but especially not after his last visit.

Doesn’t stop me from missing him like hell.

* * *

 

He’s back! I unfold the note with a smile. Except when I do, the handwriting is different. I’m confused. The writing is still familiar, but why on earth has the replacement stalker returned?

_I thought you should know that he’s no longer tasked with monitoring you. He hasn’t been for quite some time._

I scoff. Like I haven’t figured that out already.

* * *

 

"You knew?"

I roll my eyes, amused at his oh so unreadable tone. Which means he’s not just incredulous, he’s actually flabbergasted. Like it was supposed to be so impossible for me to figure this out on my own. Arrogant bastard.

“You disappear anywhere from a few days to several weeks with no rhyme or reason, and when you return, you  stay anywhere from a single evening to a week. It wasn’t exactly hard to figure out that you’re spending your downtime harassing me." Looking back, his mission of stalking us probably ended when he left a few weeks after the New Year. "Now give me the damn blindfold and get naked,” I order with a playful smile.

"You don't find it odd that I kept coming back?" he asks as he ties the headband around my head, completely casual and playfully mocking as ever.

The act might’ve worked if he hadn’t been so flabbergasted just a moment before.

"You're a ninja, your entire species is insane,” I point out for the millionth time. This is literally all the explanation needed. I’ve also long since learned to roll with the inevitable consequences their insanity brings. He really should’ve realized that by now. “Besides, it’s not like I’m not getting any benefits out of this,” I continue with a grin.

"True. Still, most civilians wouldn't feel comfortable having someone in my profession dropping by of their own free will."

His lack of the A-word makes me chuckle. Even ANBU follow the first rule of ANBU. I turn in the general direction of his voice and give him as serious a look as I’m capable of faking.

"Mind. Blowing. Orgasms. I'm willing to overlook a lot for those, I thought that was very clear by now."

"I feel used,” he declares with mock hurt.

"No you don't,” I counter, letting my grin break through.

"No I don't.”

* * *

 

I trail my hand down his ribs, mapping out the familiar scar. I still enjoy exploring them, despite knowing them all down to the tiniest detail. Well, I know most. There are a few he doesn’t want me explore.

It’s keeps being so fascinating to feel the unique texture beneath my fingers.

"Why are you still so fascinated?"

Sometimes I swear the bastard is capable of reading my mind. Often times, really. If it hadn’t been for the fact that my past is still a secret, I would’ve thought he was using magic.

"You have so many,” I murmur, most of my focus still on that raised skin.

"Occupational hazard."

"I know,” I say wryly. That really is a perfect opening.

Before I can continue, he lets out a resigned sigh.

"Because ninja are insane."

My smile turns into a grin.

"I have trained you so well.”

He lets out a hum but doesn’t say anything more. I slide my hand from his ribs to his chest, tracing the contours of the small burn there.

"...Why insane?" he asks after a comfortable silence.

"You keep asking and I keep telling you. Some things are simple. Just accept them."

"That doesn't answer my question."

I halt my caressing with surprise. He still sounds lazy and satisfied, but the very fact that he rebuked my banter like that means this actually matters to him. And here I thought we’d already established why I call him insane.

I resume my caressing, thinking over my answer. I could answer with a meaningless quip, or tease him about being genuinely bothered by this, but...

"You have so many scars." The words come out more hushed than intended, I can’t help it. Most of the time I don’t think too deeply about what those scars mean, courtesy of only being confronted with them when basking in the afterglow. But when I do think about them, when I think about how he got them...

He keeps silent. That’s an even better indicator of how much this is bothering him than his previous rebuke.

I hesitate. If I continue down this line, I come dangerously close to crossing one of the unspoken boundaries between us.

I decide to take a different approach.

"Sometimes I try to imagine what it would be like if I could jump on roofs, or punch through stone, create fire with my mind, or any of the other fantastical things you can do. While I can imagine, I know I can't truly grasp just how much that must influence every part of your life."

The words come out slowly, articulating something I never really talk about. I think about it sometimes, but I don’t talk about it. Not anymore.

After getting over the worst of my shock of finding myself in a fictional world where magic is real, and after getting down the basics of the language, I had talked about this with Daisuke. A lot. He didn’t understand my incredulity and confusion of course, living among magical ninjas was normal for him. But he listened, and he explained as best he could. That allowed me to work through the worst of my difficulties.

It allowed me to reach the point where I can just roll with the inherent insanity that living in a magical world brings.

Most of the time, I don’t think too deeply about the strangeness of this world anymore. But when I do...

“I look at what ninjas can do, look at the sheer power you command, and I wonder. How would I see the world if I’d been raised a ninja? If I’d been taught from childhood how to use chakra, if I’d learned to think in terms of potential threats and underlying meanings. How would I see the world? How would it shape my opinions?”

I can imagine it a little better now that Naruto is going to the academy. It’s already changing him. Not his personality, but the things he notices, the way he talks, even the way he reasons. It’s subtle, but it’s definitely there.

He’s not being taught magic, not yet. That won’t be on the curriculum until next year. But he’s being taught how to fight and how to handle weapons. He’s being taught trapmaking and strategy. Hell, he’s even being taught a rudimentary form of psychology and how to manipulate people into doing what he wants. Or rather, doing what the mission requires. And he’s being taught this at the age of _six_.

I do my best to ignore the horror of it all. Naruto has to learn these things. Even ignoring the fact that he’s the main character, the Fox paints a huge target on his back. He needs to be able to defend himself.

No matter how much I wish he didn’t need to.

He’s just a kid. He's only six years old.

The bastard still doesn’t speak. For once, the silence is uncomfortable. I wish he would say something, give me a hint as to how he’s feeling.

Given that I know he won’t, I return to his original question.

"It's why I call you insane. I just... I honestly don't get how you see the world, so I often have real trouble understanding how you think."

"...And you don't mind?"

I feel myself relax. Not at the tone, still as lazy and satisfied as before, but at the hand gently trailing down my arm.

He’s not planning to leave yet.

"You're not hurting me and have never forced me to do anything against my will. What’s to mind?” I ask rhetorically with a smile in his general direction. When he stays silent, I resume mapping out his scars.

"So why the fascination with my scars?"

I give a teasing grin.

"I find it difficult to grasp how any human being can voluntarily put themselves through so many life threatening situations. I have a healthy survival instinct. Ninja don't. Because they are insane."

I speak the words lightly, but that doesn’t make them any less true. Yes, in my old world, there were soldiers as well, but I was never confronted with them like I am here. I didn’t live among them. Didn’t see the stark difference in their behavior compared to civilians.

Ninja are easy to spot, both in and out of uniform. Even ignoring the telling grace of their movements, there’s a constant sharpness to their gaze, a habitual awareness of their surroundings that never fades. And when something unexpected happens, they switch from normal to killer in the blink of an eye, threatening in a way that always makes my hindbrain light up in alarm.

Of course, most of the time the unexpected thing is something innocuous. Like the time Tori dropped a plate of onigiri in the kitchen and the crash had transformed Shisui into a terrifying stranger for the briefest of moments, before he’d realized what had caused the sound and he returned to his usual cheery self, acting like nothing out of the ordinary had happened.

Itachi, on the other hand, hadn’t even blinked.

"I'm not even human to you? Ouch."

I’m so glad he’s returning to our usual banter.

"Of course you're human. You just happen to be an insane one.”

He chuckles, erasing the last of the tension between us. I trace the edge of the scar crossing his shoulder, most of me relaxed as well. Most of me.

He has so many scars. He’s been hurt so many times.

He’s a ninja. He’ll keep getting new scars. Will keep being hurt.

No matter how much I wish he wouldn’t.

* * *

 

“Come on, Mari-chan. You can’t keep me in suspense like this.”

I absolutely can. Not in the least because it’s hilarious to see Shisui act like this.

“Watch me,” I taunt with a satisfied smile. Shisui’s pout only makes my satisfaction grow.

“I never thought you could be this cruel, Mari-chan,” he delivers with mock hurt.

“Then you obviously don’t know me that well.”

Shisui gasps and turns to face Itachi.

“Are you hearing this?” he demands in an attempt to get some support for his suffering. “She’s torturing me!”

“Consider it an exercise in enduring hardship.”

The support doesn’t come.

“I can’t believe you,” Shisui accuses, and while it’s a little exaggerated, it’s mostly sincere. “She’s keeping vital information from you as well, you know.” Ah, yes, the technical term for gossip.

Itachi doesn't take the bait. Instead he sips his tea, placid as ever.

Or rather, he seems placid to me. Judging from Shisui's sudden shock, he’s picked up on something in Itachi’s demeanor I didn’t.

“You knew?” The demand is delivered with nothing but pure disbelief, not a hint of acting in sight. “Itachi, how could you keep this from me?”

“I was interested in seeing how long it would take you to realize the obvious.” The quip makes me snort with laughter. Itachi’s own lips twitch as well, not bothering to hide his amusement at Shisui’s expense. “I am rather impressed by the amount of time it took you.”

Shisui stares at Itachi with utter betrayal, making me chuckle. Really, I don’t know why he expected any different. Itachi loves pushing his buttons.

I’m very grateful for that love. Without it, Shisui would’ve been harassing me about this a lot sooner. I already know it won’t take long before his prying will start to annoy me.

Right now, however, it’s hilarious.

Honestly though, I barely talk about the bastard with, well, anyone.

What makes Shisui think he can suddenly convince me to spill the beans to him?

* * *

 

"Do you like it?" Naruto asks with adorable shyness. I smile down at him, feeling so lucky to have him.

“I love it,” I assure him, and my hearts melts further when Naruto beams like the sun. I place the pens and beautifully decorated notebooks next to my other presents. So this is what he’s been saving up for. I’m ridiculously touched.

“Told you she would,” Renji tells Naruto with a satisfied smirk. Really, the complete change in his attitude is the most wonderful present of all. I can’t exactly say that out loud, though.

I give him a warm smile instead. Renji answers with a playful wink.

"And now, it's time for cake!" Tori declares with an excited clap of her hands, grinning like mad. She’s been waiting for this moment every since we sat down. I have to admit, I’m very curious as to what she and Rukia have cooked up this year. Their baking skills are leagues above my own. Their cooking skill in general, really.

"I'll go get it. No peeking,” Rukia warns, eyes gleaming with anticipation as she stands up and walks towards the kitchen.

"Twenty-six. You're becoming old." Shiro teases in a deadpan voice. I laugh and gently smack his shoulder.

"If I'm old, then what about you? The big thirty is just two years away now."

"I am young in spirit." he quips, lips twitching with the hint of a smile.

"Close your eyes!" Tori actually chirps. Honestly, I’m suppose to be the excited one, not her. I am excited of course, but Tori’s own enthusiasm puts mine to shame.

I close my eyes, listening with anticipation as Rukia returns. I hear something set down in front of me.

I couldn’t stop grinning even if I wanted to.

"Alright, open your eyes!" Tori says.

I open my eyes.

The cake is magnificent, covered in delicate frosting, and looks absolutely sinful. On the top, there are cheerfully winking candles.

"Make a wish, nee-chan!"

I close my eyes again and do just that. Sucking in a deep breath, I open my eyes and blow out all the candles.

Here's to hoping life would keep being this wonderful forever.

* * *

 

 _I’m back_.

Yet another delightful birthday present. This day just keeps getting better and better.

**_Just in time to celebrate my birthday. Your sense of timing is perfect._ **

_My, aren’t we in a good mood. Did you have fun?_

**_I had a wonderful time._ **

_Glad to hear it. As it happens, I have something for you as well._

**_Really? I honestly didn't expect you to._ **

_Such low opinion you have of me._

**_Keeps it easier to be pleasantly surprised._ **

"Trust me, you'll find this a true pleasure."

* * *

 

I laugh.

"I was five."

I laugh harder. When it fades, I place my lips back on his forearm with a smile. More specifically, I place them on the small scar just beneath his wrist. The sensation alone is enough to get me to chuckle again.

"Five." he repeats with exasperation. I laugh again, more softly this time, and turn my head towards him.

"This one's my favorite,” I tell him truthfully.

"Really." He sounds so very unimpressed. My smile turns into a grin.

"Really,” I agree in a solemn voice as I bring up a hand to trace the wonderful little thing. I chuckle again.

"Five,” he emphasizes like it doesn’t make everything so much better. This is an even better present than his new magic trick, and that present was an amazing one indeed.

"That only makes it so much better,” I say, because it really does. He was just a tiny little ninja when this happened. No, even better, a tiny little _brat_.

"It was the first time I tried."

"Only getting better." I try to imagine it happening. I fail, but oh, what fun I have in trying. I chuckle again, can’t help it. "You got this by _cooking_."

He lets out a resigned sigh.

"You're never going to let this go, are you?"

He knows me so well.

"Never in a million years. I'm serious, this one's my favorite, and I honestly don't think you'll ever be able to change that."

"You can't be certain of that,” he counters, his act of exasperation replaced by bemusement.

It’s true, I can’t be certain of that. There are still so many scars that I don’t know the story behind.

I’m still pretty damn sure no other is going to come close to this one.

"Which is why I said right now,” I point out. “But I highly doubt you'll be able to change my opinion. Though if you do somehow manage, you'll make my decade. Instead of my year like you have right now."

He really has. Because even for a ninja, he is _absurdly_ graceful, and I honestly can’t imagine him ever being clumsy enough to get a scar like this.

Because every other scar he’s talked about was born either from training or from deadly attacks. They were created by him learning how to kill, or from wounds meant to kill him.

All except for this gorgeous little thing. Just thinking of how he got it is enough to make me start chuckling again.

He got this when he was five years old. He got this by _cooking_.

Sudden movement. I realize that I’m flat on my back, and his warmth is pressing down on me in the most delicious of ways.

"It’s not nice to make fun of someone’s painful past." He sounds so very scolding. I grin. Apparently I said that out loud.

"Are you going to punish me?" I invite as I blindly twine my arms around his neck. He lets out a hum, before his lips caress my shoulder, teasing with a hint of tongue. I tilt back my head to offer him more skin. His lips slide up my throat, halting just below my jaw.

"It would be irresponsible of me not to. I'm afraid I can't let you go until I'm certain that you've learned your lesson."

I smile.

That doesn’t sound bad at all.

* * *

* * *

 

"I repeat, this is _not_ okay _at all_.”

"..."

"To continue without orders? To let her think you were still on duty? You know exactly how wrong that is, don’t pretend otherwise. So why? And don’t you dare give another crap excuse about free dinner.”

"..."

“I’m not going to stop harassing you until I get an answer and I will resort to drastic measures if I have to, don’t think I won’t. I’ve been playing nice until now, but no more. Just save yourself the pain and come clean.”

“...”

"They are in a relationship."

"They are what now."

"They started sleeping together on a steady basis somewhere within the first week after his assignment ended."

"And you _knew?_ Weasel, how could you keep this from me?"

"I assumed that finally realizing they are still in contact would be enough for you to deduce the obvious as well. My apologies, I seem to have overestimated your powers of observation. Again."

"...We aren’t together like that."

"If you are sleeping with her on a regular basis, have been for five months, and aren’t planning on stopping anytime soon, you really are. You really, really are."

"Both of them are in denial. They are pretending that their relationship is nothing more than a friendship with physical benefits."

"Shut up and focus. The target approaches."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *nervous cough*
> 
> So yeah, it's been a while. A long while. I'm so sorry for the delay, I had a writer's block I just could not seem to shake. But I vowed to complete this before the new year, and I did it! I managed to finish this chapter! I won't be able to make any promises for the next one, but this one is finished! 
> 
> In all honesty, I'm still not completely happy with this. But I suppose it's as good as it's going to get.
> 
> Happy Holidays!

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos and comments always brighten my day :)
> 
> My [tumblr](https://loekas.tumblr.com/)


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